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BEQUE^TpiTj. 
ALBERT ADSIT CLEMONS 
(Not available for exchange) 



ORIGINAL PLAYS. 




/^ys 




ORIGINAL PLATS 




BY 



W. S. GILBERT. 




SCRIBNER, ARMSTRONG, & CO. 

1876. 



^-trfocy, /S 






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Stereotyped and printed by 

Rand, Avery, and Company, 

IJ7 Franklin Street, 

Boston. 

Bequest 

Albert Adsit Olemons 

Aug. 24, 1938 

(Not available for exchange) 



^3 



NOTE, 

The Story upon which * The Palace of Truth ' is 
founded is probably as old as the 'Arabian Nights: 
' The Princess ' is a respectful parody of Mr. Tennyson's 
exquisite poem. It has been generally held, I believe, that 
if a dramatist uses the mere outline of an existing story 
for dramatic purposes, he is at liberty to describe his play 

as '^ original :' 

W. S. GILBERT. 

London, Nov. i8, 1875. 



CONTENTS. 



FAGB 



The Wicked World 13 

Pygmalion and Galatea . . . . 75 

Charity i37 

The Princess 213 

The Palace of Truth 267 

Trial by Jury 343 



THE WICKED WORLD 

%n ®xx^nd Jfairg ®0mebg, 



IN THREE ACTS. 



DRAMATIS PERSONS. 



Ethais 

Phyllon 

LuTiN {a Serving Fairy) 
Selene {a Fairy Qtieen) 

Darine 

Zayda 

Leila 

Neodie 

LOCRINE 



Fairies. 

... Mr. Kendal. 

Mr. Arnott. 
... Mr. Buckstone. 

Miss Madge Robertson. 
... Miss Amy Roselle. 

Miss M. Litton. 
... Miss Harrison. 

Miss Henrl 
... Miss Francis. 



Mortals. 

Sir Ethais Mr. Kendal. 

Sir Phyllon Mr. Arnott. 

LuTiN {Sir Ethais' s Henchman) Mr. Buckstone. 

SCENE: IN FAIRY LAND. 



%* The action is comprised withift the sj>ace of 
twenty-four hours. 



PROLOGUE. 

Spoken by Mr. Buckstone. 

The Author begs you'll kind attention pay 

While I explain the object of his play. 

You have been taught, no doubt, by those professing 

To understand the thing, that Love's a blessing : 

Well, he intends to teach you the reverse — 

That Love is not a blessing, but a curse ! 

But pray do not suppose it's his intent 

To do without this vital element — 

His drama woiUd be in a pretty mess ! 

With quite as fair a prospect of success, 

Might a dispensing chemist in his den 

Endeavor to dispense with oxygen. 

Too powerful an agent to pooh-pooh, 

There will be Love enough I warrant you : 

But as the aim of every play's to show 

That Love's essential to all men below, 

He uses it to prove, to all who doubt it. 

How well all men — but he — can do without it. 

To prove his case (a poor one, I admit), 

He begs that with him you will kindly flit 

To a pure fairy-land that's all his own, 

Where mortal love is utterly unknown. 

IZ 



12 PROLOGUE. 



Wliose beings, spotless as new-fallen snow, 
Know nothing of the Wicked World below. 
These gentle sons and daughters of the air, 
Safe, in their eyrie, from temptation's snare. 
Have yet one little fault I must confess — 
An overweening sense of righteousness. 
As perfect silence, undisturbed for years, 
Will breed at length a humming in the ears, 
So from their very purity within 
Arise the promptings of their only sin. 
Forgive them ! No ? Perhaps you will relent 
When you appreciate their punishment ! 

But prithee be not led too far away. 

By the hack author of a mere stage-play : 

It's easy to affect this cynic tone, 

But, let me ask you, had the work! ne'er known 

Such Love as you, and I, and he, must mean — 

Pray where would you, or I, or he, have been t 



THE WICKED WORLD. 



ACT I. 

Scene — Fairy Land. A beautiful, but fanciful 
landscape, which is supposed to lie on the upper 
side of a cloud. The cloud is suspended over 
the earth, a portion of zuhich {representing " a 
bird's-eye viezv'' of a mediceval city), is seen, 
far beloiv, through a rent or gap in the cloud. 

As the curtain rises Zayda is discovered standing 
in a thoughtficl attitude, contemplating the 
world at her feet. To her enters Darine. 

Dar. My sister, Zayda, thou art deep in thought, 
What quaint conjecture fills thy busy brain ? 

Zay. Oh ! sister, it's my old and favorite 
theme — 
That wonderful and very wicked world 
That rolls in silent cycles at our feet ! 

Dar. In truth a fruitful source of wonderment ! 

Zay. Fruitful indeed — a harvest without end ! 
The world — the wicked world ! the wondrous 

world ! 

2 ^3 



14 THE WICKED WORLD. 

I love to sit alone and gaze on it, 

And let my fancy wander through its towns, 

Float on its seas and rivers — interchange 

Communion with its strange inhabitants : 

People its cities with fantastic shapes, 

Fierce, wild, barbaric forms — all head and tail. 

With monstrous horns, and blear and bloodshot 

eyes, 
As all should have who deal in wickedness ! 

Enter Phyllon. 

Oh, Phyllon ! picture to thyself a town 
Peopled with men and women ! At each turn, 
Men — wicked men — then, farther on, more men, 
Then women — then again more men — more men — 
Men, women, everywhere — all ripe for crime, 
All ghastly in the lurid light of sin ! 

Enter Selene. 

Phyl. In truth, dear sister, if man's face and form 
Were a true index to his character. 
He were a hideous thing to look upon ; 
But man, alas ! is formed as we are formed. 
False from the first, he comes into the world 
Bearing a smiling lie upon his face, 
That he may cheat ere he can use his tongue. 

Zay. Oh ! I have heard these things, but heed 
them not. 
I like to picture him as he should be, 
Unsightly and unclean. I like to pair 



THE WICKED WORLD. 15 

Misshapen bodies with misshapen minds. 

Sel. Dost thou not know that every soul on earth 
Hath in our ranks his outward counterpart ? 

Dar. His outward counterpart ! 

Sel. Tis even so ; 

Yes, on that world — that very wicked world — 
Thou — I — and all who dwell in fairy land, 
May find a parallel identity : 
A perfect counterpart in outward form ; 
So perfect that, if it were possible 
To place us by these earthly counterparts, 
No man on earth, no fairy in the clouds, 
Could tell which was the fairy — which the man ! 

Zay. Is there no shade of difference ? 

Phyl. Yes, one ; 

For we are absolutely free from sin. 
While all our representatives on earth 
Are stained with every kind of infamy. 

Dar. Are all our counterparts so steeped in sin ? 

Phyl. All, in a greater or a less degree. 

Zay. What, even mine ? 

Phyl. Alas ! 

Zay. Oh, no — not mine ! 

Phyl. All men and women sin. 

j)ar. I wonder what 

My counterpart is doing now t 

Sel. Don't ask. 

No doubt, some fearful sin ! 

j)ar. And what are sins "i 

Sel. Evils of which we hardly know the names. 



i6 THE WICKED WORLD, 

There's vanity — a quaint, fantastic vice, 

Whereby a mortal takes much credit for 

The beauty of his face and form, and claims 

As much applause for loveliness as though 

He had designed himself ! Then jealousy — 

A universal passion — one that claims 

An absolute monopoly of love, 

Based on the reasonable principle 

That no one merits other people's love 

So much as — every soul on earth by turns ! 

Envy — that grieves at other men's success, 

As though success, however placed, were not 

A contribution to one common fund ! 

Ambition, too, the vice of clever men 

Who seek to rise at others' cost ; nor heed 

Whose wings they cripple, so that they may soar. 

Malice — the helpless vice of helpless fools. 

Who, as they can not rise, hold others down, 

That they, by contrast, may appear to soar. 

Hatred and avarice, untruthfulness. 

Murder and rapine, theft, profanity — 

Sins so incredible, so mean, so vast. 

Our nature stands appalled when it attempts 

To grasp their terrible significance. 

Such are the vices of that wicked world ! 

Enter Ethais, Locrine, Neodie, Leila, and 
other Fairies. 

Eth. My brothers, sisters, Lutin has returned. 
After a long delay, from yonder earth : 



THE WICKED WORLD. 17 



The first of all our race who has set foot 
Upon that wicked world. See ! he is here ! 

Enter Lutin. 

Sel. Good welcome, Lutin, back to fairy land ! 
So thou hast been to earth ? 

l^iit^ I have indeed ! 

Sel. What hast thou seen there ? 

Lut. Better not inquire. 
It is a very, very wicked world ! 
I went, obedient to our King's command. 
To meet him in mid-earth. He bade me go 
And send both Ethais and Phyllon there. 

Eth. Down to mid-earth } 

l^j^f^ Down to mid-earth at once. 

He hath some gift, some priceless privilege 
With which he would endow our fairy world ; 
And he hath chosen Phyllon and thyself 
To bear his bounty to this home of ours. 

Zay. Another boon } Why, brother Ethais, 
What can our monarch give that we have not .? 
Eth. In truth, I can not say — 'twould seem that 
we 
Had reached the sum of fairy happiness ! 

Sel. But then we thought the same, before our 
King 
Endowed us with the gift of melody ; 
And now, how tame our fairy life would seem 
Were melody to perish from our land ! 

PhyL Well said, Selene. Come, then, let's away. 



i8 THE WICKED WORLD. 

And on our journey through the outer world 
We will take note of its inhabitants, 
-And bring you fair account of all we see. 
Farewell, dear sisters ! 

\Exeuiit Phyllon mid Ethais. 
Sel. Brothers, fare-you-well. 

{To LUTIN.) 

And thou hast really met a living man ? 

Lilt. I have indeed — and living women too ! 

Zay. And thou hast heard them speak, and seen 
their ways, 
And didst thou understand them when they spake ? 

LtLt. I understand that what I understood 
No fairy being ought to understand. 
I see that almost every thing I saw 
Is utterly improper to be seen. 
Don't ask for details — I've returned to you 
With outraged senses and with shattered nerves, 
I burn with blushes of indignant shame. 
Read my experiences in my face. 
My tongue shall wither ere it tell the tale. 
It is a very, very wicked world ! 

Dar. But surely man can summon death at will ; 
Why should he live when he at will can die t 

Lut. Why, that's the most inexplicable thing. 
I've seen upon that inconsistent globe — 
With swords and daggers hanging at their sides, 
With drowning seas and rivers at their feet. 
With deadly poison in their very grasp. 
And every implement of death at hand — 



THE WICKED WORLD. 19 

Men live — and live — and seem to like to live ! 

{Exit LuTiN. 

Dar. How strangely inconsistent ! 

Set. Not at all. 

With all their misery, with all their sin, 
With all the elements of wretchedness 
That teem on that unholy world of theirs, 
They have one great and ever glorious gift. 
That compensates for all they have to bear — 
The gift of Love ! Not as we use the word, 
To signify mere tranquil brotherhood ; 
But in some sense that is unknown to us. 
Their love bears like relation to our own. 
That the fierce beauty of the noonday sun 
Bears to the calm of a soft summer's eve. 
It nerves the wearied mortal with hot life, 
And bathes his soul in hazy happiness. 
The richest man is poor who hath it not. 
And he who hath it laughs at poverty. 
It hath no conqueror. When death himself 
Has worked his very worst, this love of theirs 
Lives still upon the loved one's memory. 
It is a strange enchantment, which invests 
The most unlovely things with loveliness. 
The maiden, fascinated by this spell, 
Sees every thing as she would have it be : 
Her squalid cot becomes a princely home ; 
Its stunted shrubs are groves of stately elms ; 
The weedy brook that trickles past her door 
Is a broad river fringed with drooping trees ; 



20 THE WICKED WORLD. 

And of all marvels the most marvelous, 
The coarse unholy man who rules her love 
Is a bright being — pure as we are pure ; 
Wise in his folly — blameless in his sin ; 
The incarnation of a perfect soul ; 
A great and ever glorious demi-god ! 

Dar. Why, what have we in all our fairy land 
To bear comparison with such a gift ? 

Zay. Oh ! for one hour of such a love as that ; 
O'er all things paramount ! Why, after all, 
That wicked world is the true fairy land ! 

Loc. Why, who can wonder that poor erring man 
Clings to the world, all poisoned though it be, 
When on it grows this glorious antidote ? 

Zay. And may we never love as mortals love ? 

Sel. No ; that can never be. Of earthly things 
This love of theirs ranks as the earthiest. 
'Tis necessary to man's mode of life ; 
He could not bear his load of misery 
But for the sweet enchantment at his heart 
That tells him that he bears no load at all. 
We do not need it in our perfect land. 
Moreover, there's this gulf 'twixt it and us : 
Only a mortal can inspire such love ; 
And mortal foot can never touch our land. 

Zay. But — is that so .-* 

Sel. {surprised). Of course. 

Zay. Yet I have heard 

That we've a half-forgotten law which says, 
That when a fairy quits his fairy home 



THE WICKED WORLD. ' 21 



To visit earth, those whom he leaves behind 
May summon from the wicked world below 
That absent fairy's mortal counterpart ; 
And that that mortal counterpart may stay 
In fairy land and fill the fairy's place 
Till he return. Is there not some such law ? 

Sel. And if there be, wouldst put that law in 

force ? iJiorrified). 
Zay. No ; not for all the love of all the world ! 

{equally horrified). 
Sel. A man in fairy land ! Most horrible ! 
He would exhale the poison of his soul, 
And we should even be as mortals are, 
Hating as man hates ! 

Dar. {enthusiastically). Loving as man loves! 
(Sel. looks reproachfully). 
Too horrible ! Still — 

Sel. Well! 

Dar. I s^^ ^ trace 

Of wisdom lurking in this ancient law. 

Sel. Where lurks this wisdom, then } I see it not. 
Dar. {with emphasis). Man is a shameless being, 
steeped in sins 
At which our stainless nature stands appalled ; 
Yet, sister, if we took this loathsome soul 
From yonder seething gulf of infamy — 
E'en but for one short day — and let him see 
The beauty of our pure, unspotted lives, 
He might return to his unhappy world, 
And trumpet forth the strange intelligence : 



22 THE WICKED WORLD. 

" Those men alone are happy who are good." 
Then would the world immediately repent, 
And sin and wickedness be known no more ! 

Loc. Association with so foul a thing 
As man must needs be unendurable 
To souls as pure and sinless as our own : 
Yet, sister dear, it has occurred to me. 
That his foul* deeds, perchance, proceed from this — 
That we have kept ourselves too much aloof, 
And left him to his blind and wayward will. 

Zay. Man is every thing detestable — 
Base in his nature, base in thought and deed. 
Loathsome beyond all things that creep and crawl ! 
Still, sister, I must own I've sometimes thought 
That we who shape the fortunes of mankind. 
And grant such wishes as are free from harm. 
Might possibly fulfill our generous task 
With surer satisfaction to himself 
Had we some notion what these wishes were ! 

Neo. We give him every thing but good advice. 
And that which most he needs do we withhold. 

Dar. Oh ! terrible, dear sister, to reflect, 
That to our cold and culpable neglect, 
The folly of the world is chargeable ! 

Sel. To our neglect ! 

Zay. It may in truth be so. 

Lei. In very truth I'm sure that it is so. 

Sel. Oh ! horrible ! It shall be so no more. 
A light breaks over me ! Their sin is ours ! 
But there — 'tis easy still to make amends. 



THE WICKED WORLD. 23 



A mortal shall behold our blameless state, 
And learn the beauties of a sinless life ! 
Come, let us summon mortal Ethais. 

Dar. But — 

SeL Not. a word — I am resolved to this. 

Neo. But sister — 

Sel. Well ? 

Neo. {timidly). Why summon only one ? 

Sel. Why summon more ? 

Neo. The world's incredulous ; 

Let two be brought into our blameless land. 
Then should their wondrous story be received 
With ridicule or incredulity. 
One could corroborate the other. 

Dar. Yes — 

Phyllon has gone with Ethais. Let us call 
The mortal counterpart of Phyllon too — 

Sel. Two mortals — two unhappy men of sin 
In this untainted spot ! 

Loc. Well, sister dear. 

Two Heralds of the Truth will spread that Truth 
At the least twice as rapidly as one. 

Sel. Two miserable men ! Why, one alone 
Will bring enough pollution in his wake, 
To taint our happy land from end to end ! 

Zay. Then, sister, two won't make the matter 
worse ! 

Sel. There's truth in that. (After a pause). The 
two shall come to us. 
We have deserved this fearful punishment ; 



24 THE WICKED WORLD. 

Our power, I think, is limited to two ? 

Lei. Unfortunately. 

■ Sel. Yes — more might be done 

Had each of us a pupil to herself. 
Now then to summon them. But, sisters all, 
Show no repugnance to these wretched men ; 
Remember that, all odious though they be, 
They are our guests ; in common courtesy 
Subdue your natural antipathies ; 
Be very gentle with them, bear with them, 
Be kind, forbearing, tender, pitiful. 
Receive them with that gentle sister love, 
That forms the essence of our fairyhood ; 
Let no side-thought of their unholy lives 
.Intrude itself upon your charity ; 
Treat them as though they were what they will be 
When they have seen how we shall be to them. 
What is the form } 

Dar. Two roses newly plucked 

Should each in turn be cast upon the earth ; 
Then, as each rose is thrown, pronounce the name 
Of him whose mortal self it typifies. 
Here are two roses plucked from yonder tree. 

Sel. {taking them). Well then, fair rose, I name 
thee Ethais ! — 
Go, send thy mortal namesake to our cloud ; 

{throws rose to cartJi). 
'Tis done ; conceal yourselves till they appear ! 



THE WICKED WORLD. 25 



The fairies cojiceal themselves. Hurried music ; 
to which enter SiK Ethais a72dSiK Phyllon, 
hurriedly, over the edge of cloud, as if 
impelled by some invisible and irresistible 
power f row below. Sir Ethais and Sir 
Phyllon have their swords drawn. They 
are dressed as barbaric knights, and, while 
bearing a facial resemblance to their fairy 
counterparts, present as strong a contrast as 
possible in their costume and demeajior. 

Sir Eth. Why, help, help, help ! 

Sir Phy. The devil seize us all ! 

Why, what strange land is this ? How came we 
here ? 

Sir Eth. How came we here ? Why, who can 
answer that 
So well as thou ? 

Sir Phy. As I ? 

Sir Eth. Yes, cur ; as thou ! 

This is some devil's game of thy design, 
To scare me from the task I set myself 
When we crossed swords. 

Sir Phy. I use no sorcery. 

A whirlwind bore me to this cursed spot ; 
But whence it came I neither know nor care. 

Sir Eth. There — gag thy lying tongue ; it mat- 
ters not. 
Or here or there we'll fight our quarrel out. 
Come ! call thy devils ; let them wait at hand 
3 



26 THE WICKED WORLD. 

And when I've done with thee I'll do with them. 
{They fight. The fairies watch the combat unob- 
served wit J I great interest^ 

Dar. What are they doing ? 

Sel. It's some game of skill. 

It's very pretty. 

Dar. Very. {Knights pates e.) Oh, they've stopped. 

Phy. Come, come — on guard. {Fight resumed.) 

Zay. Now they begin again. 

Eth. {Sees fairies, who have gradually surrounded 

them) 
Hold! we are overlooked. (Kt^m^, who has turned 
for a moment in saying thiSy is severely 
wounded by Phyllon.) 

Sel. You may proceed. 

We like it much. 

Dar. You do it very well — 

Begin again. 

Eth. Black curses on that thrust ! 

I am disabled. Ladies, bind my wound ; 
And if it please you still to see us fight, 
We'll fight for those bright eyes and cherry lips 
Till one or both of us shall bite the dust. 

Phy. Hold ! call a truce till we return to earth — 
Here are bright eyes enough for both of us. 

Eth. I don't know that ! Well, there — till we 
return. {Shaking hands) 
But once again on earth, we will take up 
Our argument where it was broken off, 
And let thy devils whirl me where they may, 



THE WICKED WORLD. 27 

I'll reach conclusion and corollary. 

Dar. {looking at Yylyulo-^). Oh, fairyhood ! 
How wonderfully like our Phyllon ! 

Set. {looking at Ethais). Yes. 

And see — how strangely like our Ethais. 
Thou hast a gallant carriage, gentle knight. {Sighing) 

Zay. How very, very like our Ethais. 

Eth. It's little wonder that I'm like myself ; 
Why, I am he. 

Sel. No, not our Ethais. {Sighing.) 

Eth. In truth, I am the Ethais of all 
Who are as gentle and as fair as thou, 

Sel. That's bravely said ; thou hast a silver 
tongue ; 
Why ! what can gods be like if these be men. 
{During this dialogue^ Darine shows by herma7i7ter 

that she takes great interest in Ethais.) 
Say, dost thou come from earth or heaven } 

Eth. {gallantly ptttting Jiis arm round them). I 
think I've come from earth to heaven. 

Sel. {to Darine with delight). Oh ! didst thou 
hear } 
He comes from earth to heaven ! No, Ethais, 
We are but fairies — this, our native home. 
Our fairy-land rests on a cloud which floats 
Hither and thither, as the breezes will ; 
At times a mighty city's at our feet, 
At times a golden plain, and then the sea, 
Dotted with ships and rocks and sunny isles. 
We see the world ; yet saving that it is 



28 THE WICKED WORLD. 

A very wicked world, we know it not — 
We hold no converse with its denizens ; 
But on the lands o'er which our island hangs, 
We shed fair gifts of plenty and of peace — 
Health and contentment — charity — goodwill ; 
Drop tears of love upon the thirsty earth, 
And shower fair waters on the growing grain. 
This is our mission. 

Eth. 'Tis a goodly one ! 

I'd give my sword — ay, and my sword-arm too, 
If thou wouldst anchor for a year or so 
O'er yonder home of mine. But tell me, now, 
Does every cloud that hovers o'er our heads 
Bear in its bosom such a wealth of love t 

Sel. Alas ! Sir Ethais, we are too few 
To work the good that we could wish to work. 
Thou hast seen black and angry thunder-clouds 
That spit their evil fire at flocks and herds. 
And shake with burly laughter as they watch 
The trembling shepherds count their shriveled dead } 
These are our enemies, sir knight, and thine. 
They sow the seeds of pestilence and death — 
May heaven preserve thee from their influence I 

Eth. Amen to that ! 

Phy. But tell us, gentle maid, 

Why have you summoned us "^ 

Sel. Because we seek 

To teach you truths that now ye wot not of ; 
Because we know that you are very frail, 
Poor, blind, weak, wayward mortals — willing reeds, 



THE WICKED WORLD. 29 



Swayed right and left by every tempting wind ; 
And we are pure, and very, very brave, 
Having no taste for trivial solaces 

{taking Ethais hand) ; 
Scorning such idle joys as we have heard 
Appeal most strongly to such men as you ; 
And we have cherished earnest hope that we, 
By the example of our sacred lives, 
May teach you to abjure such empty joys, 
May send you back to earth, pure, childlike men, 
To teach your mothers, sisters, and your wives, 
And those perchance {sighing) who are to be your 

wives ! 
That there are fairy maidens in the clouds. 
Whose gentle mode of thought and mode of life 
They would do well to imitate. We would 
That every maid on earth were such as we ! {Pla- 
cing her arms round his neck). 

Eth. In truth we would that every maiden were, — 
{Aside) Except our mothers, sisters, and our wives ! 

Sel. If you will be our pupils, you must give 
Some token of submission to our will. 
No doubt you have some form of fealty ? 

Eth. When man desires to show profound 
respect — 
To indicate most forcibly his own 
Inferiority, he always puts 
His arm round the respected object's waist. 
And drawing her (or him) towards him, thus, 
Places a very long and tender kiss 



30 THE WICKED WORLD. 

On his (or her) face — as the case may be. 

Sel. That form is not in vogue in fairy land ; 
Still, as it holds on earth, no doubt 'twill have 
Far greater weight with you poor sons of earth. 
Than any formula we could impose. 

Phy. Its weight is overpowering. {About to kiss) 

Sel. But stay ! 

We would not zvrest this homage from you, sir ; 
Or give it willingly, or not at all. 

Eth. Most willingly, fair maid, we give it you. 

Sel. Good ! Then proceed. 

(Eth. kisses Sel. and Phyl. kisses Zay.) 

Eth. There ! does it not convey 

A pleasant sense of influence } 

Sel. It does. 

Some earthly forms seem rational enough. 
Why Ethais, what ails thee .-* (Ethais staggers) 

Eth. Why, I'm faint 

From loss of blood. My wound — here, take this 

scarf. 
And bind it round my arm — so — have a care ! 
There, that will do till I return to earth ; 
Then, Lutin, who's a fairly skillful leech, 
Shall doctor it. 

Sel. {amazed). Didst thou say Lutin .-* 

Eth. Yes, 

He is my squire — a poor, half-witted churl, 

Enter Lutin unobserved. 
Who shudders at the rustling of a leaf ; 



THE WICKED WORLD. 31 



A strange, odd, faithful, loving, timid knave ; 
More dog than man, and, like a well-thrashed hound, 
He loves his master's voice, and dreads it, too. 
Why, here he is ! {In intense astonishment) 

LiLt. Who is this insolent, 

A mortal here in fairy land ? 

Log. Yes, two ! 

LtU. Oh, this is outrage ! 

Eth. {crossing to him). Why, thou scurvy knave, 
How cam' St thou here? Thou didst not come with 

us ! 
What is the meaning of this masquerade ? 

{Alluding to Lutin's dress. 
Be off at once ; if I could use my arm, 
I'd whip thee for this freak, but as it is, 
I'll hand thee over to that wife of thine ; 
Her hand is heavier than mine. {To Sel.) This 

churl 
(So rumor saith) is mated to a shrew ; 
A handsome, ranting, jealous, clacking shrew ; 
And he, by means of this tom-fool disguise. 
Has 'scaped his home to play the truant here ; 

Ltit. Who are these men > 

Sel. The mortal counterparts 

Of Ethais and Phyllon. Look at them ! {Crosses 

to LUTIN.) 

Dost thou not love them ? 

Lnt. {indignantly). No! 

Sel. How very strange I 

Why we all loved them from the very first. 



32 THE WICKED WORLD. 

Lut. Is this indeed the truth ? 

Dar. It is indeed. 

Obedient to our queen's command, we have 
Subdued our natural antipathies. 

Zay. They are our guests, all odious though they 
be, {Takes Phyllon's ha7id.) 

And we must bid them welcome to our home. 
As if e'en now they were what they will be 
When they have seen what we shall be to them. 

{Kissing his hand) 

Lut. Be warned in time, and send these mortals 
hence ; 
Why, don't you see that in each word they speak, 
They breathe of love ? 

Sel. {enthusiastically). They do ! 

Lut. Why Love's the germ 

Of every sin that stalks upon the earth : 
The brawler fights for love — the drunkard drinks 
To toast the girl who loves him, or to drown 
Remembrance of the girl who loves him not ! 
The miser hoards his gold to purchase love. 
The liar lies to gain, or wealth, or love ; 
And if for wealth, it is to purchase love. 
The very footpad nerves his coward arm 
To stealthy deeds of shame by pondering on 
The tipsy kisses of some tavern wench ! 
Be not deceived — this love is but the seed ; 
The branching tree that springs from it is Hate ! 

Dar. {to Eth.) Nay, heed him not. There is a 
legend here — 



THE WICKED WORLD. 33 



An idle tale, that man is infamous. 
And he believes it. So, indeed, did we, 
Till we beheld you, gallant gentlemen ! 

Lut. Why, they are raving ! Let me go at once 
And join my brothers at our monarch's court; 
While they are here this is no place for me. 

Zay. {eagerly to Sel.) Let him depart ; then we 
can summon here 
His mortal counterpart. {Fairies delighted ; Selene 
expresses indignant stirprise, Zayda changes 
her manner), a poor frail man 
No doubt, who stands in very sorest need 
Of such good counsel as we can afford. 

Sel. Thou speakest wisely. Lutin, get thee gone. 

Eth. Be off at once. 

pjiy. Begone, thou scurvy knave ! 

Thy wife shall hear of this — shell punish thee. 

Lilt. Oh, moral plague ! oh, walking pestilence ! 
Oh, incarnation of uncleanliness ! 
You call me knave !. Why, harkye men of sin. 
You've kings and queens upon that world of yours, 
To whom you crawl in apt humility ; 
Well, sir, there's not an emperor on earth 
Who would not kiss the dust I tread upon, 
And I'm the meanest here. Good day to you. 

{Exit Lutin. 

Eth. {follozuing him angrily, is restrained by 
Selene). The fellow's crazed — heed not 
his rhapsodies, 
Thou dost not credit him } 



34 THE WICKED WORLD. 

Sel. And if I do, 

What matters it ? Be all he says thou art, 
And I will worship thee for being so ; 
Thou art my faith — whate'er my Ethais does 
Is ever hallowed by his doing it ; 
Thy moral law is mine — for thou art mine : 
Rob, and I'll scoff at honor ; kill — I'll kill ; 
Be perjured, and I'll swear by perjury ; 
Ay, be thou false to me, and I'll proclaim 
That man forsworn who loves but one alone ! 
My soul is thine — whate'er my faith may be, 
I'll be its herald ; if thou hast no faith, 
I'll be the high priest of thine unbelief ! 
Thy wisdom's mine ; thy folly's thine — 

Eth. Hush ! hush ! 

Why this is madness ! 

SeL Yes, for this is Love ! 

Selene kneels at Ethais' feet. 



ACT 11. 

Scene, same as Act I. 

[Darine, Zayda, Leila, Locrine, other Fairies, 
and Neodie discovered anxiously watcJiing 
the entrance to Selene's bower^ 

Dar. Still, still Selene watches Ethais ! 
For six long hours has she detained the knight 
Within the dark recesses of her bower. 



THE WICKED WORLD. 35 

Under pretense that his unhappy wound 
Demands her unremitting watchfulness ! 
{Indignantly.) This, fairies, is our queen ! — - the 

sinless soul 
To whose immaculate pre-eminence 
We pure and perfect maidens of the air 
Accord our voluntary reverence ! 

Zay. Her conduct is an outrage on her sex ! 
Was it for this \h-3it we proposed to her 
That we should bring these mortals to our land ? 
Is this the way to teach this erring man 
The moral beauties of a spotless life ? 
To teach him truths that now he wots not of ? 
Surely this knight might well have learnt on earth 
Such moral truths as she is teaching him. 

Enter Selene from bower, Darine retires up. 

Lei. At last she comes ! {to Selene). We are 
well pleased to find 
That, after such a lengthy vigil, thou 
Canst tear thyself away from Ethais ! 

Sel. Yes, dearest sister, he is calmer now. 
{To Zay.) Oh ! this has been a fearful night for him ; 
Not for one moment have I left his side ! 

Zay. Poor Ethais ! Believe us, sister dear, 
He has our heartfelt pity. 

Sel. All night long 

He tossed and raved in wild delirium ; 
Shouting for arms, and, as it seemed to me, 
Fighting his fight with Phyllon o'er again, 



$6 THE WICKED WORLD. 

At length, as morning broke, he fell asleep, 

And slept in peace till half an hour ago. 

I watched him through the long and troubled night, 

Fanning the fever from his throbbing brow, 

Till he awoke. At first he gazed on me 

In silent wonderment ; then, suddenly 

Seizing my hand, he pressed it to his lips, 

And swore that I had saved him from the grave — 

Mark that — the grave ! I — I had saved his life ! 

He told me that he loved me — loved me well ; 

That I was fairer than the maids of earth — 

That I had holy angel-eyes, that rained 

A gentle pity on his stubborn heart — 

(He called it stubborn, for he knew it not) ; 

That I was fairer, in his worldly eyes, 

Than all the maids on earth or in the clouds ! 

(Darine, who has listened zvith intense anxiety 
to this speech, goes off silently y but in an 
agony of grief ) 

Zay. {spitefully) . Could any words more elo- 
quently show 
The recklessness of his delirium } 

Sel. {surprised). Nay, he was conscious then. 

Neo. {very kindly). Of course he was ! 

No doubt, Selene, thou hast gained his love. 
Be happy in it, dearest sister ; but 
In thy proud triumph, love, pray recollect 
He had not seen us I 

Zay. Thou hast wisely done 

To keep him from o.ur sight. Ca^e thou thy bird, 



THE WICKED WORLD. 37 

Or he may fly to fairer homes than thine. 

Sel. {amazed). What mean you, sisters ? Nay, 
turn not away — 
What have I done ? 

Loc. {very spitefully). Indeed we do not know ; 
But, lest we should affect his love for thee, 
We will at once withdraw. 

\^Exit LocRiNE, bowing ironically. 

Lei. {^ivith freezing politeness). Good-day to you ! 

Neo. Good-day! 

Zay. Good-day. Remember — cage thy bird ! 

\Exit. 

Sel. How strangely are my sisters changed to me ! 
Have I done wrong } No, no, I'm sure of that. 
The knight was sorely stricken — he had died 
But for my willing care. Oh ! earthly love. 
Thou mighty minister of good or ill. 
Is it for good or ill that thou art here ? 
Art thou an element of happiness. 
Or an unwieldy talisman that I, 
In heedlessness, have turned against myself .-* 
" He had not seen theml' — so my sister spake ; 
Yes, truly, there are fairer forms than mine. 
He shall not see them ! Oh ! I am unjust. 
Hath he not told me that I have his love .<* 
There is no treachery in those brave eyes ; 
There is no falsehood in that gallant heart 5 
But still — he had not seen them. Oh, for shame ! 
Can love and doubt reign ever side by side t 
No, Ethais, love is the death of doubt. 
4 



38 THE WICKED WORLD. 

I love thee, Ethais, and doubt thee not ! 
Still it were better that he saw but me. 

(Ethais has entered wiperceived front bower 
and overheard the last three lines. He 
is very pale a7id weak, and his arm is in 
a sling)) 

Eth. Selene, I am weak — give me thine hand. 

Sel. My love, thou shouldst not yet have left thy 
couch ! 
Come — thou hast need of rest. 

Eth. No, let me stay. 

The air revives me — I am strong again. 
And so, thou trustest me t 

Sel. In truth I do ! {Sits by his side.) 

Although I can not tell thee whence proceeds 
This strange, irrational belief in thee — 
Thee, whom I hardly know. 

Eth. Is that so strange ? 

I see no marvel ! 

Sel Nay, my love, reflect, 

I am a woman, and thou art a man ; 
Well, thou art comely — so, in truth, am I ; 
We meet and love each other — that's to say, 
I am prepared to give up all I have, 
My home, my very fairyhood for thee ; 
Thou to surrender riches, honor, life. 
To please the fleeting fancies of my will. 
And why } 

Because I see in thee, or thou in me. 
Astounding virtue, brilliant intellect, 



THE WICKED WORLD. 39 

Great self-denial, venerable years, 
Rare scholarship, or godly talent ? No ! 
Because, forsooth, we're comely specimens — 
Not of our own, but Nature's industry ! 

Eth. The face is the true index of the mind, 
A ready formula, whereby to read 
The lesson of a lifetime in a glance. 

Sel. {in wonder). Then, Ethais, is perfect come- 
liness 
Always identified with moral worth ? 

Eth. The comeliest man is the most virtuous — 
That's an unfailing rule. 

Sel. Then, Ethais, 

There is no holier man on earth than thou ! 
My sisters, Ethais, are sadly changed 
By the strange power that emanates from thee. 
They love thee as I love thee ! 

Eth. {aside). Do they so ! 

I'faith they shall not love their love in vain ! 

Sel. I tell thee this that thou mayst shun them, 
lest 
By crafty scheme and subtly planned device, 
They steal thee from thy mistress unawares. 

Eth. {laughing). No fear of that ! Laugh all 
their schemes to scorn. 
Treat them with the contempt such jades deserve. 
I do not seek tJiem. 

Sel. Does the miser treat 

The thief who seeks his treasure with contempt, 
Because his treasure does not seek the thief } 



40 THE WICKED WORLD, 

No, Ethais, I'll hide my gold away ! 

Take thou this ring — it is a pledge of love {giving 

him a ring). 
Wear it until thy love fades from thy soul. 

Eth. 'Twill never fade while thou art true to me. 

Sel. {amazed). Are women ever false to such as 
thou ? 

Eth. Are women ever true ? Well, not to me. 
{Aside.) Nor I to them ; and so we square accounts ! 

Sel. Then thou hast been deceived } 

Eth. A dozen times. 

Sel. How terrible ! 

Eth. Yes, terrible indeed ! 

Ah, my Selene, picture to thyself 
A man — linked for his life to one he loves. 
She is his world — she is the breath he breathes ; 
In his fond eyes the type of purity. 
Well, she is false — all women are — and then 
Come tidings of his shame, the damning words, 
" I love another, I have cheated thee." 
At first it can not be, it is a dream ; 
And when by slow procession, step by step. 
He sees in it the waking from a dream. 
His heavy heart stands still — he dies a death, 
A momentary death — to wake again 
Into a furious life of hot revenge ; 
His hand against all men ; his maddened tongue 
Calling down curses on his cheated self ; 
On him who stole her love, on all but her 
Who has called down this crowning curse on him ! 



THE WICKED WORLD. 41 



To find her love a lie, her kiss a jest, 
Her cherished bywords a cold mockery — 
Oh, there are words 
For other agonies, but none for this ! 

Sel. And thou hast suffered this ? 

Eth. {bitterly). I have indeed ! 

Sel. And how long does this bitter anguish last ? 

Eth. Well, in a very serious case, all night ! 
Next day a fairer face, a nobler form, 
A purer heart, a gentler maidenhood. 
Will set him dreaming as he dreamt before 
Until the time for waking comes again ; 
And so the round of love runs through our lives ! 

Sel. But these are earthly maidens, Ethais — 
My love is purer than a mortal's love. 

Eth. Thine is no mortal love if it be pure. 

Sel. {horrified). Then, mortal Ethais, what love 
is thine ? 

Eth. {take7i aback). I spake of women — men are 
otherwise. 

Sel. Man's love is pure, invariably } 

Eth. Pure .? 

Pure as thine own ! 

Sel. Poor, trusting, cheated souls ! 

[Exetmt together into bower. 

Enter Darine, who has overheard the last few lines. 

Dar. She leads him willingly into her bower ! 
Oh ! I could curse the eyes that meet his eyes, 
The hand that touches his hand, and the lips 



42 THE WICKED WORLD. 

That press his lips ! And why ? I can not tell ! 
Some unknown fury rages in my soul, 
A mean and miserable hate of all, 

\Enter Phyllon tmobserved. 
Who interpose between my love and me ! 
What devil doth possess me ? 

Phy. Jealousy ! 

Dar. Perhaps — what matters how the fiend is 
called ? 

Phy. But wherefore art thou jealous ? Tell me, 
now, 
Have /done aught to cause this jealousy? 

Dar. Thou ! Dost thou love me ? 

Phy. Love thee ? Tenderly ! 

I love all pretty girls, on principle. 

Dar. But is thy love an all-possessing love ? 
Mad, reckless, unrestrained, infuriate, 
Holding thy heart within its iron grasp. 
And pressing passion from its very core ? 

Phy. {surprised). Oh, yes ! 

Dar. Alas ! poor stricken, love-sick knight ! 

Phyllon, my love is such a love as thine. 
But it is not for thee ! Oh, nerve thyself, 
I have ill tidings for thee, gentle knight ! 
I love thee not ! 

Phy. Indeed ? 

Da7\ Is it not strange ? 

Phy. Most unaccountable. 

Dar. {disappointed). But tell me, now. 

Art thou not sorely vexed ? 



THE WICKED WORLD, 43 

Phy. (quietly). Unspeakably. 

Dar. But thou'lt forgive me ? Tell me Phyllon, 
now, 
That I am pardoned ! 

Phy. That, indeed, thou art. 

Dar. {hurt). Phyllon, hadst thou despised my 
proffered love, 
I'd not have pardoned thee ! 

Phy. No, women don't. 

Dar. (impatiently). But dost thou understand } 
I love thee not. 
I, whom thou lovest, Phyllon, love thee not — 
Nay, more, I love another — Ethais ! 
Thou hast a rival, and a favored one. 
Dost thou not hear me ? 

Phy. (surprised). Yes ; I'm deeply pained. 

Dar. (delighted). Thou art "i 

Phy. Of course. What wouldst thou have me do } 

Dar. Do } Hurl thyself headlong to yonder 
earth. 
And end at once a life of agony ! 

Phy. Why should I ! 

Dar. Why? Because I love thee not! 

Why if / loved and found my love despised, 
The universe should ring with my laments ; 
And were I mortal, Phyllon, as thou art, 
I would destroy myself ! 

Phy. Ha ! ha ! If all 

Heartbroken lovers took that course, the world 
Would be depopulated in a week ! 



44 THE WICKED WORLD. 

And so thou lovest Ethais ? 

Dar. {entJuLsiastically). I do ! 

Phy. But still (I may be wrong) it seems to me 
He's taken with Selene — 

Dar. {furiously). Name her not I 

He feigns a love he does not feel, because 
She is our queen. He dares not anger her ! 

Phy. But art thou sure of this ? 

Dar. {bitterly). Oh! am I sure! 

Look in these eyes — they do not burn for thee ; 
Behold this form — that thou shalt never clasp — 
Gaze on these lips — thou shalt not press them, sir 1 
And tell me, now, that Ethais loves me not ! 
Oh ! had I but the power to heal his wound, 
And free him from her hated company ! 

Phy. Were Lutin here, he would assist thy plan. 

Dar. Lutin .-^ 

Phy. His henchman, and a cunning leech ; 

He has a charm — a potent talisman — 
A panacea that will heal all wounds ; 
Fetch him, and Ethais is healed again. 

Dar. {aside). The gods have heard me ! {Aloudy 
suddenly). Oh ; insensate knight, 
Thou counselest me how to gain his love; 
And yet thou lovest me } 

Phy. • Oh, pardon me, 

That was ten minutes since — an age ago ! \Exit. 

Dar. Here comes the miserable, mincing jade, 
With a fair speech upon her lying lips, 
To meet the sister whom her base-born arts 



THE WICKED WORLD. 45 

Have robbed of more than life ! Oh, hypocrite ! 

Enter Sei^ene, /rom bower. 

Sel. Darine ! 

Dar. {changing her mamier). My sister — my 
beloved one, 
Why, thou art sad ; thine eyes are dim with tears ! 
Say, what hath brought thee grief ? 

Sel. {with great joy). Darine, my own. 

Thon dost not shun me, then ? 

Da7^. {aside). Oh, hypocrite ! 

{Aloud.) Shun thee, my own Selene? No — not I ! 

Sel. Bless thee for that ! I feared to meet thy 
face. 
For all my loved companions turned from me 
With scornful jest and bitter mockery. 
Thou — thou — Darine, alone art true to me ! 

Dar. True to Selene while Selene breathes ! 
Come — tell me all thy woes. 

Sel. My Ethais — 

He whom I love so fondly — he is ill, 
And I am powerless to heal his wound. 
Darine, my love may die ! 

Dar. What can be done ? 

Oh, I would give my fairyhood to save 
The man thou lovest so. — my dearly loved ! 
But stay, the counterpart of Lutin is 
At once his henchman and his cunning leech ; 
Lutin has left our sphere, {pliicki7ig rose from tree) 
cast this to earth, {giving it) 



46 THE WICKED WORLD. 

And summon mortal Lutin to his aid. 

He hath a charm to heal thy lover's wound. 

Sel. Kind Heaven reward thee for thy ready wit, 
My sister, thou hast saved both him and me ! 
My darling sister ! {Embracing her) 

Dar. {aside). Oh, thou hypocrite ! 

Sel. Fair rose, I name thee Lutin, go to earth, 
And hither send the mortal counterpart 
Of him whose name thou hast, and may the gods 
Prosper thy mission ! Kiss me, dear Darine, {kiss- 
ing her) 
For thou hast saved my Ethais for me ! [Exit Selene. 

Dar. No, not for thee, good sister, for myself ! 

[Exit Darine. 

{Htirried music. Enter Mortal Lutin over 
edge of precipice, staggering on the stage as 
if violently impelled from below?) 

Lilt. What ho ! help ! help ! Where am I ? Not 

on earth. 
For I remember that a friendly cloud 
Enveloped me, and whirled me through the air, 
Just as my fair, but able-bodied, wife. 
Began to lay my staff about my ears ! 

{Enter Neodie, Leila, Locrine, arid others. 
Can this be death, and has she killed me } {Sees 

them.) Well, 
If I be dead, and if this be the place 
In which I'm doomed to expiate my sins, 
Taking my sins all round, I'm bound to say 



THE WICKED WORLD. 47 



It might have been considerably worse ! 

Loc. {approacJii7ig hhn with great delight). Why, 
this is Lutin's mortal counterpart ! 

Neo. How quaint ! How gloriously rugged ? 

Lei. Yes ! 

Such character and such expression ! 

All {admiring him). Yes ! 

Lza. By some mistake my soul has missed its way, 
And slipped into Mahomet's Paradise ! 

Neo. No, this is fairyland. See, there's the earth 
From which we summoned thee. These are the 

clouds. 
Thou art not angry with us .? 

Lut. Angry .? No ! 

I'm very well up here ! 

^oc. Then thou shalt stay ! 

Neo. Oh, tell me, are there many men on earth 
As fair and pleasant to the eye as thou } 

Lilt. Not many, though I have met one or two 
Who run me pretty close. 

^^0. Tell us their names. 

Lttt. Well, let me see, Sir Phyllon has been 
thought 
A personable man ; then Ethais 
Hes fairly well. 

Neo. But these are handsome men — 

We love thee for thy rugged homely face ; 
Oh, we are sated with mere comeliness, 
We have so much of that up here ! {rises) I love 
A homely face ! 



48 THE WICKED WORLD. 

Lilt. I quite agree with you. 

What do a dozen handsome men imply ? 
A dozen faces cast in the same mold, 
A dozen mouths all lip for lip the same. 
A dozen noses all of equal length ? 
But take twelve plain men, and the element 
Of picturesque variety steps in, 
You get at once unlooked-for hill and dale — 
Odd curves and unexpected points of light, 
Pleasant surprises — quaintly broken lines ; 
All very pleasant, whether seen upon 
The face of nature or the face of man. \_Enter Zayda. 

Loc. But stay — thou shouldst be faint, for lack 
of food ! 

Neo. Nay, let me minister unto his wants ! 

Zay. Then go, beloved sisters, gather fruits. 
And bring them here to him. Such frugal fare 
Will have a daintier flavor than its own 
When served by such fair hands ! {Kissing them) 
\Exeunt Locrine, Neodie, and others. 

Zay. {suddenly). We are alone ! 

One word of caution — shun my sisters all ! 

Lut. Are all those lovely girls your sisters } 

Zay. Yes ,; 

Rejoice that they are not thine own. 

Lut. I do. 

I very much prefer them as they are ! 
You're a fine family. 

Zay. Fair to the eye ; 

But take good heed — they are not what they seem ! 



THE WICKED WORLD. 49 

Locrine, the fair, the beautiful Locrine, 
Is the embodiment of avarice ! 
She seeks your gold. 

Lut. Fm much obliged to her ; 

I'll give her half she finds and thank her too ! 

Zay. Darine is vain beyond comparison ; 
Neodie is much older than she looks ; 
Camilla hath defective intellect ; 
Ena's a bitter shrew ; Colombe's a thief ; 
And, last and worst of all — I blush to own, 
Our queen Selene hath a tongue that stabs — 
A traitor-tongue, that serves no better end 
Than wag a woman's character away ! 

Lut. I've stumbled into pretty company ! 
It seems you fairies have your faults ! 

Zay. Alas ! 

All but myself. My soul is in my face ; 
I — only ^ I — am what I seem to be ; 
I — only I — am worthy to be loved ; 
{confidentially). If thou wilt love me I will dower 

thee 
With wealth untold, long years and happy life. 
Thou gallant churl — thou highly polished boor — 
Thou pleasant knave — thou strange epitome 
Of all that's rugged, quaint and picturesque ! 

Ltit. You don't take long in coming to the point. 

Zay. Forgive my clumsy and ill chosen words ; 
We gentle, simple fairies never loved 
Until to-day. 

Lut. And when you do begin, 



50 THE WICKED WORLD. 

You fairies make up for the time you've lost ! 
(The Fairies enter with fi^uit. He sits tip. They 
group abo2it him.) 

Neo. Hast thou a wife ? 

Ltit. Well, yes — that is — down there — 

Up here I am a bachelor — as yet. 

Zay. (offended). As yet ! Be good enough to 
recollect 
That we are good, and pure, and maidenly — 
So prithee guard that errant tongue of thine. 

Loc. And does she love thee ? 

Ltd. Humph — we do fall out — 

We did to-day. 

Neo. And how came that about 1 (All 

anxious to know}} 

Lut. Why thus — to tell the truth — between 
ourselves — 
There was a lady in the case. 

Zay. (apart^ inuch shocked). Hush — hush — 
Confine thyself to matters that relate 
To thine own sex. Thy master, Ethais — 
He fought with Phyllon — what was that about ? 

(Crossijtg to LuTiN.) 

Lut. Oh, it's the old, old story ! 

Loc. Tell it. 

Lut. Well, 

There was a lady in the case ! 

Zay. Then, stop — 

Go on to something else — Where wast thou born ? 

Lut, Why, in Bulgaria — some years ago — 



THE WICKED WORLD. 51 

{whispering) There was a lady in thai case ! 

Zay. {severely). It seems 

There is a lady, sir, in every case, 

Lut. In all these cases they do interfere ! 

Enter Darine unobserved. 

Lac. And, Lutin, is thy wife as fair as thou ? 

Lut. I thought her pretty till I looked on thee. 

Zay. Her hair ? 

Lut. Is bright — but not as bright as thine. 

Loc. Her figure } 

Lut. Neat and graceful of its kind, 

But lacks thy pleasant plumpness. Then, besides, 
She has a long loud tongue, and uses it — 
A stout and heavy hand — and uses that ; 
And large expressive eyes — and uses them I 

Zay. And does she know that thou art here with 
us } 

Lut. No — that's the joke ! No — that's the best 
of it! 
The gods forbid she ever should know that ! 
She is so plaguey jealous ! 

Loc. Is she so ? 

How is the lady called .-^ 

Lut. Her name's Darine. 

Dar. {coming forward). So I have found thee, 
Lutin. 

Lut. {aghast). Can it be } 

My wife ! 

Zay. Thy wife ? This is Darine ! 



52 THE WICKED WORLD. 

Lut. I know ! 

{JThey detain him). Be quiet — don't — oblige me 

— let me go ! 
Do not suppose, my love, that these bold girls 
Are friends of mine. 

Dar. Come, I would speak with thee — 

Lut. Allow me to explain. 

Dar. Attend to me. 

Say, dost thou love thy master, Ethais } 

Lut. My master } Yes, most surely ! 

Dar. {earnestly). So do I ! 

Madly, unreasonably, recklessly. (Lutin much 

taken aback}) 
Love him with all the passion of a heart 
That love has never kindled till to-day ! 
Thou, only thou, canst help me, noble sir. 
The gods, the gods have sent thee to my aid ! 

Lut. Have they 1 In doing so the gods have not 
Displayed their usual talent for intrigue. 
O, thou abandoned woman ! 

Dar. Hear me, sir ! 

My Ethais is wounded in the arm, 
Thou hast a remedy of wondrous power, 
A charmed remedy. Give it to me. 
That I may work his cure. 

LtU. Upon my soul. 

Cure him for thee ! This is a cool request ! 

Dar. But why not heal thy master's wound } 

Lut. Because, 

Under the circumstances, I prefer 



THE WICKED WORLD. 



53 



My master wounded to my master well, 
For when he's well, he's very well indeed ! 
(Aside) But stay — here is an essence that will 

drown 
His soul in sleep till I awaken him {taking bottle 

from pocket). 
Shall I ? I will ! He'll be much safer so ! 
{Aloud) There, take the charm, and heal thy Ethais ! 

Dar. A thousand thanks ! Now he indeed is 
mine ! 

Lut. Oh ! this is inconceivable ! Come here 
{Fairies advance) y 
D' ye see these maidens, madam ? Hitherto 
Thou hast been jealous, but without good cause ; 
But now I'll give thee cause for jealousy ; 
I'll pass my time with them — d'ye hear ? with 

them — 
They're very pleasant, unaffected girls ; 
I like them very much, and they like me — 
I'll play the very devil with their hearts, 
And let them play the very deuce with mine ! 

Dar. Do so ; I'll not detain thee from thy loves — 
See how impatiently they wait for thee ; 
Go — while the happy hours away with them. 

Lnt. Is this thy jealousy, abandoned girl ? 

Dar. {surprised). Jealous of' thee ? Good sir, 
I love thee not ! 

Lut. You don't ! 

Dar. No, no — I love Sir Ethais ; 

And when I've healed his wound, sheer gratitude 

5* 



54 THE WICKED WORLD. 

Will wake his soul to love ! 

Ltit. If he drinks that 

Sheer gratitude won't wake him. After all {looking 
at Fairies who are endeavoring to persuade 
him to accompany tJiem}j 
Six pretty Zaydas to one Ethais — 
He fast asleep, and they all wide awake, 
Egad, I've six to one the best of that ! 

[Exeunt Lutin a7td Fairies. 

Dar. He comes ! At last I shall behold my love ! 

{Enter 'Etb.ais from bower. 
{Tenderly^ How fares Sir Ethais ? 

Eth. Why grievously. 

I am no leech, and can not dress my wound, 
I'm sick and faint from pain and loss of blood. 

Dar. {aside). How shall I work my end } I have 
a plan ! 
Oh, powers of impudence defend me now ! 
{Aloud). Sir Ethais, if Phyllon's words be true. 
Thy wound is but a scratch. 

Eth. A scratch, forsooth ! 

The devil's nails could hardly scratch so deep. 

Dar. He says — I don't believe him — but \\^says 
That thou hast magnified its character. 
Because thou fearest to renew the fight. 
He says thou art a coward ! 

Eth. {fiLriously). By my blood, 

He shall atone for that ! Did he say this 
To thee } 

Dar. Ay, sir, to me — a minute since. 



THE WICKED WORLD. 55 



Eth. Oh, Phyllon ! Coward ? Why, a dozen times 
We two have fought our battles side by side ; 
And I'm to quail and blanch, forsooth, because 
We two, at last, are fighting face to face ? 
Oh, curses on the wound ! Were Lutin here, 
My sword-arm soon would be in gear again. 

Dar. Lutin is here. 

Eth. {amazed). Flere ? Lutin ? 

Dar. Yes. Behold ! {Shows Jlask.) 

I have obtained this precious charm from him. 
Now, knight, to prove thy mettle ! 

Eth. {furiously). Give it me — 

Give me the flask ! 

Dar. One moment, Ethais. 

This flask is precious,- and it hath a price. 

EtJi. Name thou thy price, and I will give it thee. 
Take money, jewels, armor, all I have, 
So that thou leavest me one trusty sword ! 

Dar. No, Ethais, I do not want thy wealth, 
I want thy love — yes, Ethais, thy love ; 
That priceless love that thou hast lavished on 
My worthless sister. 

Eth. On Selene } 

Dar. Yes, 

Thou lovest her — and dost thou think that I 
Will save thy life for her } 

Eth. Selene } Bah ! 

True, she is fair. Well, thou art also fair. 
What does it matter — her fair face or thine } 
What matters either face — or hers or thine — 



56 THE WICKED WORLD, 

When weighed against this outrage on my fame ? 
Dar. Give me this ring, and thou shalt have the 

charm. 
Eth. 'Tis thine. And now, Sir Phyllon, take 
good heed ! 

Enter Sei.y.ne /rojn bower. 

Sel. Darine ! Thou here, alone with Ethais ! 
No, no. I will not doubt — 

Dar. Doubt whom thou wilt ! 

Thou hypocrite ! thou shameless hypocrite ! 
Thou wretched victim of thine own designs. 

Sel. Darine, what dost thou mean } 

Enter Fairies. 

Dar. Doubt all of us, 

For we are false to thee as thou to us. 
I am as thou hast made me, hypocrite ! 

Sel. Thou art to me as thou hast ever been, 
Most dearly loved of all these dearly loved. 

Dar. Away ! Thou art the source of all our ill ; 
For thoudi we counseled thee to do the deed 

o 

That brought this blight upon our innocence, 
'Twas but a test, and thou hast bent to it ! 

Zay. Oh, miserable woman, get thee hence ! 
Thou art no queen of ours ! 

Loc. Away with her ! 

Down with the traitress queen ! (Selene turns 
from one to another — allium away from her.) 

Sel. So let it be. 



THE WICKED WORLD. 57 

Yes, thou hast rightly said — I had a trust. 

I have forsaken it. Through my default, 

The taint of earth has fallen on our land. 

Mine was the sin — be mine the punishment. 

Well-loved Darine, take thou this diadem : 

Wear it more worthily than I. {Places her coronet 

on Darine.) Behold 
How royally it rests upon her brow ! 
My gentle sisterhood, behold your queen ! {Fairies 

bow) 
Let her fair face and form untainted yet 
By the iniquity of my default, 
Recall the loved Darine of yesterday — 
The gentle, loving, maidenly Darine — 
Who would have been that loved Darine to-day, 
But for my erring deed. Oh, shame on me ! 
Thou art as I have made thee. Who am I 
That I should judge my sister } I am loved ; 
But had I lost that love, should I have borne 
My loss more patiently than thou .-* Alas ! 
Thou, I, and all, are now as mortals are. 

Dar. So may I fall if I forsake my trust. 
Thy punishment is just. Thou wast a queen — 
What art thou now .? 

Sel. I have a kingdom yet ! 

I have a kingdom here — in Ethais' heart. 
A kingdom } Nay, a world — my world — my 

world ! 
A world where all is pure, and good, and brave ; 
A world of noble thought and noble deed ; 



58 THE WICKED WORLD. 

A world of brave and gentle chivalry ; 
A very goodly and right gallant world ; — 
This is my kingdom — for I am its queen ! 

Dar. Thou art no queen of his, for he is mine. 
Aye, by the token that thou gavest him {shows ring), 
Thou fond and foolish maiden ! 

Sel. (Looking at it). No, no, no ! 

It is a counterfeit — no, no, Darine ! 
The punishments of Heaven are merciful. 

(Takes Ethais's hand to kiss it; she sees that the 
ring is 7tot there,) 

Oh, Ethais ! 
Is that the ring with which I plighted thee } 

Eth. Ay, that's the bauble. I have naught to 
say. 

Sel. (TJ^Dar.) It fell from him — where didst 
thou find it, speak } 

Eth. I sold it for a charm that I might have 
An arm to flog a lying cur withal ; 
A traitor devil, whose false breath had blurred 
My knightly honor, dearer to my heart 
Than any love of woman — hers or thine ! 
I had no choice — my honor was at stake. 

Sel. Thine honor ! Thou dost well to speak of 
that. 
Can devils take the face and form of gods } 
Are truth and treachery so near akin 
That one can wear the other's countenance } 
Are all men such as thou } Or art thou not 
Of thine accursed race the most accursed .•* 



THE WICKED WORLD. 59 

Why, honorable sir, thou art a knight 

That wars with womankind ! Thy panoply 

A goodly form, smooth tongue, and fair false face. 

Thy shield a lie ; thy weapon an embrace ; 

The emblem of thy skill a broken heart ! 

Thine is a gallant calling, Ethais — 

Thou manly knight — thou soul of chivalry — 

Thou most discreet and prudent warrior ! 

i^He approacJies her}j Away, and touch me not ! My 

nature's gone. 
May Heaven rain down her fury on thy soul ! 
May every fiber in that perjured heart 
Quiver with love for one who loves thee not ! 
May thine untrammeled soul at last be caught, 
And fixed and chained and riveted to one 
Who, with the love of heaven upon her lips. 
Carries the hate of hell within her heart ! 
Thou phantom of the truth — thou mimic god — 
Thou traitor to thine own unhappy soul — 
Thou base apostate to the lovely faith, 
That thou hast preached with such false eloquence, 
I am thine enemy ! ( To her sistei^s) Look on your 

work, 
My gentle sisters. {They look in honvr) Are ye 

not content } 
Behold ! I am a devil, like yourselves ! 



6o THE WICKED WORLD. 

ACT III. 

Scene, same as Acts I. and 11. 

LuTiN discovered sitting, in deep dejectio7t. Zayda 
is at his feet trying to arouse him: Ethais is 
lying insensible at entrance to bowery covered 
zvith a mantle. 

Zay. Come, Liitin, speak to me — for hours in 
vain 
I've sought to wean thee from thine inner self ; 
I've sung in vain to thee — thou wilt not sing — 

Lut. I can not sing. 

Zay. Or dance ? 

Lnt. I do not dance. 

Zay. Then let us float on yonder silver stream . 
{they rise^y 
Or plunge headlong into its mossy depths, 
And wander, hand in hand, from grot to grot ; 
Or, if thou wilt, I'll whirl thee through the air, 
And light with thee on yon tall pinnacle. 
Come, Lutin - — take my hand, and we'll away ! 

Ltit. Don't be ridiculous ! I do not fly ! 
You're very good - — you mean it well, I know — 
But I've no taste for such alarming joys. 
I can't help thinking of my lost Darine, 
She was so much too good for me, and now 
/ am so much too good for her ! 

Zay. Alas ! 

Dost thou love her ? 



THE WICKED WORLD. 6i 

Lut. I can't help loving her. 

Zay. Dismiss the worthless creature from thy 
- thoughts. 
I know her well — she don't deserve thy love ! 
She always was a very wicked girl. 

Lut. Wicked .-* The best of women ! 

Zay. {maliciously). So she seemed. 

Lut. She had her faults, I know. 

Zay. She hath a soul 

In which hypocrisy, intemperance. 
Hate, envy, vanity, untruthfulness 
Run riot at their will ! 

Lut. (astonishea). You don't say so .-* 
I'd no idea of this — {peeping) 

Zay. As for her crimes — 

Lut. Tell me the worse at once ! 

Zay. The worst .-* No, that 

Would be too cruel — but — bigamy's the best ! 

Lut. What ! Bigamy ! Has she two husbands, 
then t 

Zay. Two } Half-a-dozen ! 

Lut. What ! 

Zay. Why even now 

She seeks to add a seventh to her list ! 
Sir Ethais — 

Lut. Ah, there I've thwarted her. 

Belter Darine, who goes to Ethais. She over- 
hears what follows. 
I have a potion that will heal his wounds ; 
She begged it of me, but I cheated her, 



62 THE WICKED WORLD. 

And put into her hands a sleeping draught. 
By this time he's as helpless as the dead, 
And she may shout until she wakes the dead, 
Before she wakes him ! 

(Darine comes forwai^d. Exit Zayda, in terror^ 

Dar. (^dowii). Why, thou envious churl — 
Thou wanton trifler with the purest fire 
That ever burnt in love-sick woman's breast, 
Why hast thou done this thing ? 

Lut. She does not quail 

Beneath her injured Lutin's outraged eye, {she goes 

up to Ethais) 
But calmly asks him why he's done this thing ! 

Dar. Say, is he dead ? Come — answer quickly ! 

LtLt. Well, 

He's dead to all intents and purposes. 

Dar. How has he injured thee } 

Lut. He hasn't as yet ; 

And I'll take care he don't ! 

Dar. Oh, misery! 

In half-an-hour my brothers will be here ; 
In half-an-hour he must return to earth ! 

{Referring to Ethais) 
Awake, insensate knight — arouse thee, dolt ! 
I — I, Darine, am waiting here for thee. 
Dost thou not hear me } Ethais, awake ! 

Lilt. Oh — shout away ! 

Dar. Oh ! I will be revenged ! 

{To Lutin). I know not why thou wagest bitter war 
Against my unoffending happiness ; 



THE WICKED WORLD. 63 



But I will thwart thy schemes. Sir Phyllon comes ! 

{Enter Phyllon. 
Come hither, Phyllon — come to me, fair knight ! 
Say, dost thou love me still ? 
Ph' Indeed I do ! 

Dar. {To Lutin,) Thou hearest him — he loves 
me! 

(r<9 PiiYLL.) Tenderly? 
Phy. Most tenderly ! {Embraciitg her) 
Dar. He loves most tenderly ! 
He is awake ! 

Lut. Yes, much too wide awake ! 

Disreputable woman, let him be ! 
Unhand this lady ! 

D(^r. Why, thou selfish knave. 

May I love nobody on earth but thee ? 
Lut. Of course you may not ! 
Dar. Go, sir, get thee gone ? 
There are fair maids enough awaiting thee ; 
I do not interfere 'twixt thee and them. 

Lut. Well no, to do you justice, you do izot f 
I do not want them. Pm a married man ! 
What married man cares twopence for intrigues 
At which his wife connives .^ 

J^^iy- Is this thy wife } 

Lut. I blush to say she is ! 

Dar. {amazed). I am thy wife ! 

Oh, monstrous ! Stay, there has been some mistake, 
Some dreadful error ! See, I've found a clew ! 
No doubt I am her fairy prototype, 



64 THE WICKED WORLD. 

In face resembling her, but that is all. 
LtU. Then thou art not my wife ? 
Dar. Not T, indeed ! 

(LuTiN kisses her.) 
I am a fairy. Be thou reassured ; 
Thy wife is on the earth {kisses her again) — Give 

me the charm 
To cure my Ethais, and sit thee down) he gives it to 

her), 
And I will send for Zayda and Locrine, 
And thou shalt talk of love to both of them. 

Lut. Well no — upon the whole — I'd rather not. 
(Darine admifiisters the potion to Ethais, who 
gradiLally revives}) 
I have reformed, Darine, and had I not, 
I don't think I could talk to them of love 
With all the eloquence the theme deserves, 
In the distracting company of one. 
Who, if she's not in point of fact my wife. 
Is so uncomfortably like my wife, 
That she may be my wife for aught I know ; 
And more than that, I can't stand tamely by 
And notice with uninterested gaze 
A lady, who's so very like my wife, ' 
Hanging on everybody's neck but mine. 
Don't send for Zayda — I'm a married man ! \Exit. 
Dar. He wakes ! He lives — my own, own Ethais ! 
Eth, {awaking). Why — where am I .^ Havel 

then been asleep .'' 
Dar. Indeed thou hast ! See, thou must soon 
return 



THE WICKED WORLD. 65 



To yonder earth — I've much to say to thee. 

Eth. But how came I to sleep ? I recollect ! 
Thou gavest me a potion, and l-^^Sees Phyllon) 

Ha ! {Flies at his throat) 
So I'm a cur, Sir Liar, and my wound 
Is but a scratch which I have magnified 
That I might shun the terrors of thy sword ! 

Phy. Hands off, thou drunken madman ! Set me 
free. 
/ never said these things ! 

^^"" Thou craven cur, 

Dost thou then fear to reap before my face 
The crop that thou hast sown behind my back } 
Thy life shall pay for this ! 

Phy. {contemptuously). I am not wont 
To weigh the words I speak to such as thou. 
No need to taint thine honor with a lie. 
Why, Ethais, the truth is black enough ; 
I know thee as a brawling tavern bully, 
A hollow friend — a cruel unsparing foe — 
A reckless perjurer — a reprobate — 
The curse of woman and the scourge of man ! 

{Shaki?zg him off.) 
Is not the truth enough, that I should grudge 
The one brute-virtue of thy satyr-soul — 
The instinct courage of a hungry dog ! 

Eth. {zvith suppressed fury). I'll place these 
charges to the long account 
That I've to settle when we go below ! 
{To Dar). Didst thou not tell me he had said these 
things } ^^ 



66 THE WICKED WORLD. 

Dar. I did, indeed ! 

Phy. And by what warrant, pray ? 

Dar. It was an artifice to gain thy love. {To 
Ethais.) 
Has man monopoly of lover's lies ? 
Forgive me, Phyllon — 

Phy. Bah ? Release my hand. 

Thou shameless woman — I have done with thee. 

\Exit Phyl. 

Dar. Oh ! Ethais, be not enraged with me — 
Think of my love — 

Eth. The devil take thy love — 

I'll none of it ! Begone ! See, hither comes 
The woman that thy bitter lie hath wronged. 
Hast thou the heart to stand before her } 

Dar. No! \ExiU 

Enter Selene from bower. 

Sel. Thou here } and with Darine ! 

Eth. Stay, hear me out ! 

It's true I've trifled with thy love, but then 
Thy love is not as mortal woman's love. 
I did not know that it would move thee thus .^ 

Sel. Thou didst not know ! 
Art thou so dull that thou canst understand 
No pain that is not wreaked, upon thy frame } 
Hast thou no knowledge of the form of woe 
That comes of cheated hopes and trampled hearts .'* 
To find tJiy love a lie, thy kiss a jest. 
The bywords of thy love a mockery } 



THE WICKED WORLD. 67 

Oh, there are words 

For other agonies, but none for this ! 

Eth. Nay, hear me ! I have wronged thee bit- 
terly — 
I will atone for all ! 

Set. Thou shalt atone ; 

ril be the curse of thy remaining years ! 
Harkye, Sir Knight, I'll yield my fairyhood 
That I may go to yonder earth, and join 
The whispering sisterhood of hidden hate. 
The busy band who bear within their lips 
The deadliest weapon of earth's armory : 
A blighting tongue — a woman's blighting tongue ! 
I will so deftly wield this talisman 
To twist and turn and torture good to ill. 
That were it in thee to amend thy ways. 
Turn anchorite, and yield to holy deeds 
Of peace and prayer, goodwill and charity, 
Thy holiness should seem an infamy. 
Thy peace a war, thy charity a theft. 
Thy calm a fury, and thy prayer a curse ! 

Eth. Stay thine unholy tongue — go thou to earth, 
And learn that that which thou hast undergone — • 
All women undergo. 

Sel. Am I as they } 

I am immortal. Can a few brief years 
Of bitter shame and bitter sorrow weigh 
Against an immortality of woe .'* 
A mortal's love is framed to last a life. 
But my love to outlive eternity. 



68 THE WICKED WORLD. 

Blind mortal, as Eternity to Time — 
So is my wrong to theirs ! 

Enter Locrine. 

Loc. Selene, see, 

Through the far distant air, with rapid flight, 
Our absent brothers wing their way to us ; 

{Enter Zayda and Lutin. 
These mortals must return to their own earth ! 
LtLt. Now by my head, but this is welcome news ! 
Zay. {horrified). Return to earth ? No, Lutin; 
no, not yet. 
Life without Lutin ! what can that be worth ? 
Lilt. I can not tell you for I never tried. 

{Enter Darine and Phyllon struggling. 
Nay, seek not to detain me ; I have had 
Enough of fairy love — I seek my wife. 

Phy. Come, Ethais ; to earth, to earth again ! 
Dar. {releasing him). Ay, go, and take thy fellow 
man with thee. (Lutin and Phyllon de- 
scend}) 
We want but this to crown our misery ! 

Ethais, about to follow him^ is detaiited by 

Selene. 
Sel. {suddenly}} No ! no ! Thou shalt not go, 
thou shalt not go ! 
My hope — my shattered hope ; but still, my hope ! 
My love — my blighted love ; but still, my love ! 
My life — my ruined life ; but still my life ! 
Forgive me, Ethais : thou hast withdrawn 



THE WICKED WORLD. 69 

The very core and substance of thy love. 

No matter ! give me but the empty husk, 

And it will stay the famine of my heart. 

I'll work and toil for thee — I'll be thy slave, 

Thine humble, silent, and submissive slave ; 

I'll come but at thy beck — I will not speak, 

But at thy word — my Ethais ! my love ! 

{furiously) Nay, but I'll hold thee back ! I have 
the strength 

Of fifty women ! See, thou canst not go ! ((with 
passionate triumph}} 

Nay, but I'll wrest thy love away from thee. 

And fetter it in bondage to my heart. 

I will be one with thee ; I'll cling to thee. 

And thou shalt take me to that world of thine. 
Eth. Take thee to earth } I love the earth too 
well 

To curse it with another termagant. 

We have enough of them ! Release me, fool ! 

Man hath no appetite for proffered love ! 

Away from me, I go to that good world 

Where women are not devils till they die ! 

[ Throws off Selene, who falls senseless. He 
leaps through cloud, and descends. As Ethais 
disappears, the fairies, who have grouped 
themselves about the stage i7t attitudes of 
despair, gradually seem to wake as from a 
dream.l 
Sel. Where am I ? Zayda ! Neodie ! Darine ! 

Oh, sisters, I am waking from a dream — 



70 THE WICKED WORLD. 

A fearful dream — a dream of evil thoughts, 
Of mortal passion and of mortal hate, 
I thought that Ethais and Phyllon too 
Had gone to mid-earth — 

Zay. Nay, it was no dream, 

A sad and sorrowful reality ! 
Yes, we have suffered much — but, Heaven be 

praised. 
These mortal souls have gone to their own earth. 
And taken with them the bad influence 
That spread like an infection through our ranks. 
See ! we are as we were ! {Embracing her.) 

SeL Darine ! Darine ! 

My well-beloved sister — speak to me ! 

Dar. I dare not speak to thee — I have no 
words — 
I am ashamed. 

SeL Oh, sister, let that shame 

Sit heavily on all — for all have sinned. 
Oh, let us lay this lesson to our hearts ; 
Let us achieve our work with humbled souls, 
Free from the folly of self-righteousness. 
Behold, is there so wide a gulf between 
The humbled wretch who, being tempted, falls. 
And that good man who rears an honored head 
Because temptation hath not come to him } 
Shall we, from our enforced security, 
Deal mercilessly with poor mortal man, 
Who struggles, single-handed, to defend 
The demon-leaguered fortress of his soul } 



THE WICKED WORLD. 71 

Shall we not rather (seeing how we fell) 
Give double honor to the champion, who 
Throughout his mortal peril, holds his own, 
E'en though 

His walls be somewhat battered in the fight ? 
Oh let us lay this lesson to our hearts ! 

Enter Lutin, followed by Ethais and Phyl- 
LON, as fairies. 

Lut. Your brothers have returned. 

Sel. {embracing Ethais). My Ethais ! 

Eth. Selene — sisters all — rejoice with us, 
We bear the promise of a priceless gift, 
A source of new and endless happiness ! i^All 

eager to kjiow.) 
Take every radiant blessing that adorns 
Our happy land, and all will pale before 
The luster of this precious privilege. 
It is — that we may love as mortals love ! 

Sel. {eagerly). No, no — not that — no Ethais — 
not that ! 
It is a deadly snare — beware of it ! 
Such love is for mankind, and not for us ; 
It is the very essence of the earth, 
A mortal emblem, bringing in its train 
The direst passions of its antitype. 
No, Ethais — we will not have this love ; 
Let us glide through our immortality 
Upon the placid lake of sister-love, 
Nor tempt the angry billows of a sea. 



72 THE WICKED WORLD. 



Which, though it carry us to unknown lands, 
Is so beset with rocks and hidden shoals, 
That we may perish ere our vessel reach 
The unsafe haven of its distant shore. 
No, Ethais — we will not have this love ! 



I 



PYGMALION AND GALATEA 



IN THREE ACTS. 



DRAMATIS PERSONS. 



Pygmalion, an Atheniaii Sculptor^ 

Leucippe, a Soldier 

Chrysos, an Art Patron 
Agesimos, Chrysos' s Slave ... 
MiMOS, Pygmalion'' s Slave ... 
Galatea, aji Ani7nated Statite 
Cynisca, Pygmalion''s Wife 
Daphne, Ckrysos^s Wife ... 
Myrine, Pygmalion'' s Sister 



Mr. Kendal. 
Mr. Howe. 
Mr. Buckstone. 
Mr. Braid. 
Mr. Weathersby. 
Miss M. Robertson. 
Miss Caroline Hill. 
Mrs. Chippendale. 
Miss Merton. 



SCENE: PYGMALION'S STUDIO. 



*^*The action is comprised within the space of twenty-four 

ho7irs. 



PYGMALION AND GALATEA. 

ACT I. 

SCENE: PYGMALION'S STUDIO. 

[Several classical statues are placed about the room ; 
at the back a temple or cabinet containing a 
statne of Galatea, before which curtains are 
drawn concealing the statue from the audience. 1 

[MiMOS, a slave, is discovered at work on a half fin- 
ished statue. To him enters Agesimos.] 

Ages, {haughtily). Good day. Is this Pygma- 
lion's studio.'* 

Mim. {bowing). It is. 

Ages. Are you Pygmalion > 

Mim. Oh, no ; 

I am his slave. 

Ages. And has Pygmalion slaves ! 

A sculptor with a slave to wait on him : 
A slave to fetch and carry — come and go — 
And p'raps a whip to thrash him if he don't ! 
What's the world coming to "? 

Mim. What is your will ? 

75 



76 PYGMALION AND GALATEA. 

Ages. This : Chrysos will receive Pygmalion 
*At half-past three to-day ; so bid him come. 

Mim. And are you Chrysos, sir ? 

Ages, {disconcerted). Well, no I'm not. 

That is, not altogether : I'm, in fact. 
His slave. 

Mim. {relieved). His slave ! 

Ages, {very p7'otidly). My name's Agesimos ! 

Mim. And has Agesimos a master then. 
To bid him fetch and carry — come and go — 
And wield a whip to thrash him if he don't ? 
What's the world coming to ! 

Ages. Poor purblind fool ! 

I'd sooner tie the sandals of my lord. 
Than own five hundred thousand such as you. 
Whip ! why Agesimos would rather far 
Be whipped by Chrysos seven times a day, 
Than whip you hence to the Acropolis ; 
What say you now } 

Mim. Why, that upon one point 

Agesimos and I are quite agreed. 
And who is Chrysos .? 

Ages. Hear the slave, ye gods ! 

He knows not Chrysos ! 

Mim. Verily, not I. 

Ages. He is the chief est man in Athens, sir; 
The father of the arts — a nobleman 
Of princely liberality and taste. 
On whom five hundred starved Pygmalions 
May batten if they will. 



PYGMALION AND GALATEA. 77 

Enter Pygmalion, 

Pyg, Who is this man ? 

Ages. I'm Chrysos's slave — my name's Agesi- 
mos. 
Chrysos has heard of you : he understands 
That you have talent, and he condescends 
To bid you call on him. But take good care 
How you offend him : he can make or mar. 

Pyg. Your master's slave reflects his insolence ! 
Tell him from me that, though I'm poor enough, 
I am an artist and a gentleman. 
He should not reckon Art among his slaves : 
She rules the world — so let him wait on her. 

Ages. This is a sculptor ! 

Pyg. {furiously). And an angry one ! 

Begone, and take my message to your lord. 

{Exit Agesimos. 
Insolent hound ! 

Euter Cynisca. 

Cyn. Pygmalion, what's amiss .-^ 

Pyg. Chrysos has sent his slave to render me 

The customary tribute paid by wealth 

To mere intelligence. 

Cyn. Pygmalion ! 

Brooding on the chartered insolence 

Of a mere slave ! Dismiss the thought at once. 

Come, take thy chisel ; thou hast work to do 

Ere thy wife-model takes her leave to-day ; 

In half-an-hour I must be on the road 



78 PYGMALION AND GALATEA. 

To Athens. Half-an-hour remains to thee — 
Come — make the most of it — I'll pose myself ; 
Say — will that do ? 

Pyg. ' I can not work to-day. 

My hand's uncertain — I must rest awhile. 

Oy7i. Then rest and gaze upon thy masterpiece, 
'Twill reconcile thee to thyself- — Behold ! 
(Draws ctLvtain and discovers statue of Galatea.) 

Pyg. Yes — for in gazing on my handiwork, 
I gaze on heaven's handiwork — thyself ! 

Cyn. And yet, although it be thy masterpiece. 
It has the fault thy patrons find with all 
Thy many statues. 

Pyg. What then do they say .'* 

Cyn. They say Pygmalion's statues have one 
head — 
That head, Cynisca's. 

Pyg. So then it's a fault 

To reproduce an hundred thousand fold. 
For the advantage of mankind at large, 
The happiness the gods have given me ! 
Well, when I find a fairer head than thine 
I'll give my patrons some variety. 

Cyn. I would not have thee find another head 
That seemed as fair to thee for all the world ! 
We'll have no stranger models if you please, 
I'll be your model, sir, as heretofore. 
So reproduce me at your will ; and yet 
It were sheer vanity in me to think 
That this fair stone recalls Cynisca's face ! 



PYGMALION AND GALATEA. 79 

Pyg. Cynisca's face in every line ! 

Cyn. No, no ! 

Those outlines softened, angles smoothed away, 
The eyebrows arched, the head more truly poised, 
The forehead ten years smoother than mine own. 
Tell rather of Cynisca as she was 
When, in the silent groves of Artemis, 
Pygmalion told his love ten years ago : 
And then the placid brow, the sweet sad lips, 
The gentle head down-bent resignedly. 
Proclaim that this is not Pygmalion's wife. 
Who laughs and frowns, but knows no meed 

between. 
I am no longer as that statue is ! {Closes cicrtains^ 

Pyg. Why here's ingratitude, to slander Time, 
Who in his hurried course has passed thee by ! 
Or is it that Cynisca won't allow 
That Time could pass her by, and never pause 
To print a kiss upon so fair a face ? 
Enter Myrine. 

Myr. Pygmalion ; I have news. 

Pyg. My sister, speak. 

Myr. {bashfully). Send Mimos hence. 

Pyg. {signs to Mimos). Now we are quite alone. 

Myr. Leucippe — 

Cyn. Well ! 

Myr. {to Pyg.) He was thy schoolfellow, 

And thou and he are brothers save in blood ; 
He loves my brother as a brother. 

Pyg. Yes, 



8o PYGMALION AND GALATEA. 

I'm sure of that ; but is that all thy news ? 
There's more to come ! 

Myr. {bashfully). He loves thy sister too. 

Pyg. Why this is news, Myrine — kiss me girl. 
I'm more than happy at thy happiness, 
There is no better fellow in the world ! 

Cyit. But tell us all about it, dear. How came 
The awkward, bashful, burly warrior. 
To nerve himself to this confession } 

Leucippe appears at door. 

Myr. . Why — 

He's here — and he shall tell thee how it was. 

Leuc. In truth I hardly know ! I'm new at it; 
I'm but a soldier. Could I fight my way 
Into a maiden's heart, why well and good ; 
I'd get there, somehow. But to talk and sigh, 
And whisper pretty things — I can't do that ! 
I tried it, but I stammered, blushed, and failed. 
Myrine laughed at me — but, bless her heart. 
She knew my meaning, and she pulled me through ! 

Myr. I don't know how, Pygmalion, but I did. 
He stammered, as he tells you, and I laughed ; 
And then I felt so sorry, when I saw 
The great, big, brave Leucippe look so like 
A beaten schoolboy — that I think I cried. 
And then — I quite forget what happened next. 
Till, by some means, we, who had always been 
So cold and formal, distant and polite. 
Found ourselves 

Leuc. Each upon the other's neck ! 



I 



PYGMALION- AND GALATEA. 8i 

You are not angry ? {offering his hand). 

Pyg. {taking it). Angry ? overjoyed ! 
I wish I had been there, unseen, to see ; 
No sight could give me greater happiness ! 

Leiic. What ! say you so ? Why then, Myrine, girl. 
We'll reproduce it for his benefit. {They embrace) 
See here, Pygmalion, here's a group for thee ! 
Come, fetch thy clay, and set to work on it, 
I'll promise thee thy models will not tire ! 

Cyn. How now, Leucippe, where's the schoolboy 
blush 
That used to coat thy face at sight of her ? 

Letic. The coating was but thin, we've rubbed it 
off ! {Kisses Myrine.) 

Pyg. Take care of him, Myrine ; thou hast not 
The safeguard that protects her. {Indicating Cyn- 

ISCA.) 

Myr. What is that > 

Cyn. It's a strange story. Many years ago 
I was a holy nymph of Artemis, 
Pledged to eternal maidenhood ! 

Letic. Indeed ! 

Myr. How terrible ! 
' Cyn. It seemed not so to me ; 

For weeks and weeks I pondered steadfastly 
Upon the nature of that serious step 
Before I took it — lay awake at night. 
Looking upon it from this point and that, 
And I at length determined that the vow. 
Which to Myrine seems so terrible. 



82 PYGMALION AND GALATEA. 

Was one that I, at all events, could keep. 

Myi"- How old wast thou, Cynisca ? 

Cyn. I was ten ! 

Well — in due course, I reached eleven, still 
I saw no reason to regret the step ; 
Twelve — thirteen — fourteen saw me still un- 
changed ; 
At fifteen, it occurred to me one day 
That marriage was a necessary ill, 
Inflicted by the gods to punish us. 
And to evade it were impiety ; 
At sixteen the idea became more fixed ; 
At seventeen I was convinced of it ! 

Pyg. In the mean time she'd seen Pygmalion. 

Myr. And you confided all your doubts to him t 

Cyn. I did, and he indorsed them — so we laid 
The case before my mistress Artemis ; 
No need to tell the arguments we used, 
Suffice it that they brought about our end. 
And Artemis, her icy steadfastness 
Thawed by the ardor of Cynisca's prayers, 
Replied, " Go, girl, and wed Pygmalion ; 
" But mark my words, whichever one of you, 
" Or he or she, shall falsify the vow 
" Of perfect conjugal fidelity — 
" The wronged one, he or she, shall have the power 
" To call down blindness on the backslider, 
" And sightless shall the truant mate remain 
" Until expressly pardoned by the other." 

Leuc. It's fortunate such powers as thine are not 



PYGMALION AND GALATEA. • Z^^ 

In universal use ; for if they were, 
One-half the husbands and one-half the wives 
Would be as Wind as night ; the other half, 
Having their eyes, would use them — on each other ! 
MiMOS enters y and gives Pygmalion a scroll, which 

he reads. 

Myr. But then, the power of calling down this 
doom 
Remains with thee. Thou wouldst not burden him 
With such a curse as utter sightlessness, 
However grievously he might offend ? 

Cyn. I love Pygmalion for his faithfulness ; 
The act that robs him of that quality 
Will rob him of the love that springs from it. 

Myr. But sightlessness — it is so terrible ! 

Cyn. And faithlessness — it is so terrible ! 
I take my temper from Pygmalion ; 
While he is god-like — he's a god to me, 
And should he turn to devil, I'll turn with him ; 
I know no half-moods, I am love or hate ! 

Myr. {to Letcc.) What do you say to that ? 

Lenc. Why, on the whole 

Tm ^-Sid you're not a nymph of Artemis ! 

\Exettnt Myrine and Leucippe. 

Pyg. I've brought him to his senses. Presently 
My patron Chrysos will be here to earn 
Some thousand drachmas. 

Cyn. How, my love, to earn 1 

He is a man of unexampled wealth, 
And follows no profession. 



84 • PYGMALION AND GALATEA. 

Pyg. Yes, he does ; 

He is a patron of the Arts, and makes 
A handsome income by his patronage. 

Cy7i. How so ? 

Pyg. He is an ignorant buffoon, 

But purses hold a higher rank than brains, 
And he is rich ; wherever Chrysos buys, 
The world of smaller fools comes following, 
And men are glad to sell their work to him 
At half its proper price, that they may say, 
" Chrysos has purchased handiwork of ours." 
He is a fashion, and he knows it well 
In buying sculpture ; he appraises it 
As he'd appraise a master-mason's work — 
So much for marble, and so much for time. 
So much for working tools — but still he buys, 
And so he is a patron of the Arts ! 

Cyn. To think that heaven-born Art should be 
the slave 
Of such as he ! 

Pyg. Well, wealth is heaven-born too. 

I work for wealth. 

Cyn. Thou workest, love, for fame. 

Pyg. And fame brings wealth. The thought's 
contemptible. 
But I can do no more than work for wealth. 

Cyn. Such words from one whose noble work it is 
To call the senseless marble into life ! 

Pyg. Life ! Dost thou call that life .? 

{Indicating statue of Galatea.) 



PYGMALION AND GALATEA. 85 

Cyti. It all but breathes ! 

Pyg. {bitterly). It all but breathes — therefore it 
talks aloud ! 
It all but moves — therefore it walks and runs ! 
It all but lives, and therefore it is life ! 
No, no, my love, the thing is cold, dull stone, 
Shaped to a certain form, but still dull stone, 
The lifeless, senseless mockery of life. 
The gods make life : I can make only death ! 
Why, my Cynisca, though I stand so well. 
The merest cut-throat, when he plies his trade. 
Makes better death than I, with all my skill ! 

Cyn. Hush, my Pygmalion ! the gods are good. 
And they have made thee nearer unto them 
Than other men ; this is ingratitude ! 

Pyg. Not so ; has not a monarch's second son - 
More cause for anger that he lacks a throne 
Than he whose lot is cast in slavery ? 

Cy7t. Not much more cause, perhaps, but more 
excuse. 
Now I must go. 

Pyg. So soon, and for so long ! 

Cyn. One day, 'twill quickly pass away ! 

Pyg. With those 

Who measure time by almanacs, no doubt. 
But not with him who knows no days save those 
Born of the sunlight of Cynisca' s eyes ; 
It will be night with me till she returns. 

Cyn. Then, sleep it through, Pygmalion ! But stay, 
Thou shalt not pass the weary hours alone ; 



86 PYGMALION AND GALATEA. 

Now mark thou this — while Tm away from thee, 
There stands my only representative. {Indicating 

Galatea.) 
She is my proxy, and I charge you, sir, 
Be faithful unto her as unto me ; 
Into her quietly attentive ear 
Pour all thy treasures of hyperbole. 
And give thy nimble tongue full license, lest 
Disuse should rust its glib machinery ; 
If thoughts of love should haply crowd on thee, 
There stands my other self ; tell them to her ; 
She'll listen well. {He makes a movement of im,- 
patience) 

Nay, that's ungenerous, 
For she is I, yet lovelier than I, 
And hath no temper, sir, and hath no tongue ! 
Thou hast thy license, make good use of it. 
Already I'm half jealous — {draivs curtains) 

There, it's gone. 
The thing is but a statue after all. 
And I am safe in leaving thee with her ; 
Farewell, Pygmalion, till I return. 

{Kisses him, and exit.) 
Pyg. " The thing is but a statue after all ! " 
Cynisca little thought that in those words 
She touched the key-note of my discontent — 
True, I have powers denied to other men ; 
Give me a block of senseless marble — Well, 
I'm a magician, and it rests with me 
To say what kernel lies within its shell ; 



PYGMALION AND GALATEA. 87 



It shall contain a man, a woman — child — 

A dozen men and women if I will. 

So far the gods and I run neck and neck ; 

Nay, so far I can beat them at their trade ! 
/am no bungler — all the men /make 
Are straight-limbed fellows, each magnificent 
In the perfection of his manly grace: 
/make no crook-backs — all my men are gods, 
' My women goddesses — in outward form. 
But there's my tether ! I can go so far, 
And go no farther ! At that point I stop. 
To curse the bonds that hold me sternly back : 
To curse the arrogance of those proud gods, 
Who say, " Thou shalt be greatest among men, 
" And yet infinitesimally small ! " 
Galatea. Pygmalion ! 
Pyg' Who called .? 

^^^- Pygmalion ! 

[Pyg. tears away curtain and discovei^s Gala- 
tea alive.'] 
Pyg. Ye gods ! It lives ! 
^^^- Pygmalion ! 

Pyg It speaks ! 

I have my prayer ! my Galatea breathes ! 

Gal. Where am I .? Let me speak, Pygmalion ; 
Give me thy hand — both hands — how soft and 

warm ! 
Whence came I } {Descends) 

Pyg- Why, from yonder pedestal ! 

Gal. That pedestal } Ah, yes, I recollect, 



88 PYGMALION AND GALATEA. 

There was a time when it was part of me. 

Pyg. That time has passed for ever, thou art now 
A hving, breathing woman, excellent 
In every attribute of womankind. 

Gal. Where am I, then } 

Pyg. Why, born into the world 

By miracle ! 

Gal. Is this the world } 

Pyg. It is. 

Gal. This room .'* 

Pyg. This room is portion of a house ; 

The house stands in a grove ; the grove itself 
Is one of many, many hundred groves 
In Athens. 

Gal. And is Athens then the world t 

Pyg. To an Athenian — Yes — 

Gal. And I am one .-* 

Pyg. By birth and parentage, not by descent. 

Gal. But how came I to be } 

Pyg. Well — let me see. 

Oh — you were quarried in Pentelicus ; 
I modeled you in clay — my artisans 
Then roughed you out in marble — I, in turn, 
Brought my artistic skill to bear on you, 
And made you what you are — in all but life — 
The gods completed what I had begun, 
And gave the only gift I could not give !^ 

Gal. Then this is life ? 

Pyg. It is. 

Gal. And not long since 



PYGMALION AND GALATEA. 89 

I was a cold, dull stone ? I. recollect 
That by some means I knew that I was stone: 
That was the first dull gleam of consciousness ; 
I became conscious of a chilly self, 
A cold immovable identity, 
I knew that I was stone, and knew no more ! 
Then, by an imperceptible advance. 
Came the dim evidence of outer things, 
Seen — darkly and imperfectly — yet seen — 
The walls surrounding me, and I, alone. 
That pedestal — that curtain — then a voice 
That called on Galatea ! At that word. 
Which seemed to shake my marble to the core. 
That which was dim before, came evident. 
Sounds, that had hummed around me, indistinct, 
Vague, meaningless — seemed to resolve themselves 
Into a language I could understand ; 
I felt my frame pervaded by a glow 
That seemed to thaw my marble into flesh ; 
Its cold hard substance throbbed with active life, 
My limbs grew supple, and I moved — I lived ! 
Lived in the ecstasy of new-born life ! 
Lived in the love of him that fashioned me ! 
Lived in a thousand tangled thoughts of hope. 
Love, gratitude — thoughts that resolved themselves 
Into one word, that word, Pygmalion ! {Kneels to 
him) 

Pyg. I have no words to tell thee of my joy, 
O woman — perfect in thy loveliness ! 

Gal. What is that word t Am I a woman .? 



90 PYGMALION AND GALATEA. 

Pyg. Yes. 

Gal. Art thou a woman ? 

Pyg. No, I am a man. 

Gal. What is a man ? 

Pyg. A being strongly framed, 

To wait on woman, and protect her from 
All ills that strength and courage can avert ; 
To work and toil for her, that she may rest ; 
To weep and mourn for her, that she may laugh ; 
To fight and die for her, that she may live ! 

Gal. {after a pause). I'm glad I am a woman. 

Pyg. So am I. {They sit.) 

Gal. That I escape the pains thou hast to bear ? 

Pyg. That I may undergo those pains for thee. 

Gal. With whom then wouldst thou fight ? 

Pyg. With any man 

Whose deed or word gave Galatea pain. 

Gal. Then there are other men in this strange 
world "i 

Pyg. There are, indeed ! 

Gal. And other women } 

Pyg. {take7i aback). Yes. 

Though for the moment I'd forgotten it ! 
Yes, other women. 

GaL And for all of these 

Men work, and toil, and mourn, and weep, and fight } 

Pyg. It is man's duty, if he's called upon. 
To fight for all — he works for those he loves. ^ 

Gal. Then by thy work I know thou lovest me. 

Pyg. Indeed, I love thee ! {Embraces her.) 



PYGMALION AND GALATEA. 91 

Gal. With what kind of love ? 

Pyg. I love thee {recolleciiiig himself and releas- 
ing her) as a sculptor loves his work ! 
{aside}) There is a diplomacy in that reply. 

Gal. My love is different in kind to thine : 
I am no sculptor, and I've done no work, 
Yet I do love thee : say — what love is mine ? 

Pyg. Tell me its symptoms, then I'll answer thee. 

Gal. Its symptoms ? Let me call them as they 
come. 
A sense that I am made by thee for thee ; 
That I've no will that is not wholly thine ; 
That I've no thought, no hope, no enterprise 
That does not own Ihee as its sovereign ; 
That I have life, that I may live for thee. 
That I am thine — that thou and I are one ! 
What kind of love is that ? 

Pyg. A kind of love 

•That I shall run some risk in dealing with ! 

Gal. And why, Pygmalion } 

Pyg. Such love as thine 

A man may not receive, except indeed 
From one who is, or is to be, his wife. 

Gal. Then / will be thy wife ! 

Pyg. That may not be ; 

I have a wife — the gods allow but one. 

Gal Why did the gods then send me here to 
thee ? 

Pyg. I can not say — unless to punish me 
For unreflecting and presumptuous prayer ! 



92 PYGMALION AND GALATEA. 

I prayed that thou shouldst live — I have my prayer, 
And now I see the fearful consequence 
That must attend it ! 

GaL Yet thou lovest me ? 

Pyg. Who could look on that face and stifle love ? 

Gal. Then I am beautiful ? 

Pyg. Indeed thou art. 

Gal. I wish that I could look upon myself, 
But that's impossible. 

Pyg. Not so indeed. 

Thi^ mirror will reflect thy face. Behold ! 

{Hands her a mirror) 

Gal. How beautiful ! I'm very glad to know 
That both our tastes agree so perfectly ; 
Why, my Pygmalion, I did not think 
That aught could be more beautiful than thou, 
Till I beheld myself. Believe me, love, 
I could look in this mirror all day long. 
So I'm a woman ! 

Pyg. There's no doubt of that ! 

Gal. Oh happy maid, to be so passing fair ! 
And happier still Pygmalion, who can gaze, 
At will, upon so beautiful a face ! 

Pyg. Hush! Galatea — in thine innocence 
Thou sayest things that others would reprove. 

Gal. Indeed, Pygmalion ; then it is wrong 
To think that one is exquisitely fair } 

Pyg. Well, Galatea, it's a sentiment 
That every other woman shares with thee ; 
They think it — but they keep it to themselves. 



PYGMALION AND GALATEA. 93 

Gal. And is thy wife as beautiful as I ? 

Pyg. No, Galatea, for in forming thee 
I took her features — lovely in themselves — 
And in the marble made them lovelier still. 

Gal. (disappointed). Oh ! then I'm not original ? 

Pyg. Well — no — 

That is — thou hast indeed a prototype. 
But though in stone thou didst resemble her, 
In life the difference is manifest. 

Gal. I'm very glad I'm lovelier than she. 
And am I better t 

Pyg. That I do not know. 

Gal. Then she has faults ? 
' PyS' -^^^ very few indeed ; 

Mere trivial blemishes, that serve to show 
That she and I are of one common kin. 
I love her all the better for such faults ! 

Gal. {after a pause). Tell me some faults and 
I'll commit them now. 

Pyg. There is no hurry ; they will come in time : 
Though for that matter, it's a grievous sin 
To sit as lovingly as we sit now. 

Gal. Is sin so pleasant } If to sit and talk 
As we are sitting, be indeed a sin, 
Why I could sin all day ! But tell me, love, 
Is this great fault that I'm committing now, 
The kind of fault that only serves to show 
That thou and I are of one common kin } 

Pyg. Indeed, I'm very much afraid it is. 

Gal. And dost thou love me better for such fault } 



94 PYGMALION AND GALATEA, 

Pyg. Where is the mortal that could answer " no"? 

Gal. Why then Fm satisfied, Pygmalion ; 
Thy wife and I can start on equal terms. 
She loves thee ? 

Pyg. Very much. 

Gal. I'm glad of that. 

I like thy wife. 

Pyg. And why } 

Gal. Our tastes agree. 

We love Pygmalion well, and what is more, 
Pygmalion loves us both. I like thy wife ; 
I'm sure we shall agree. 

Pyg. {aside). I doubt it much ! 

Gal. Is she within .-* 

Pyg. No, she is not within. 

Gal. But she'll come back } 

Pyg. Oh, yes, she wiU come back. 

Gal. How pleased she'll be to know, when she 
returns. 
That there was some one here to fill her place ! 

Pyg. {dryly). Yes, I should say she'd be extremely 
pleased. 

Gal. Why, there is something in thy voice which 
says 
That thou art jesting ! Is it possible 
To say one thing and mean another } 

Pyg. Yes, 

It's sometimes done. 

Gal. How very wonderful ; 

So clever ! 



PYGMALION AND 'GALATEA, 95 

Pyg. And so very useful. 

Gal. Yes. 

Teach me the art. 

Pyg' The art will come in time. 

My wife will not be pleased ; there — that's the truth. 

Gal. I do not think that I shall like thy wife. 
Tell me more of her. 

Pyg. Well — 

Gal. What did she say 

When last she left thee ? 

Pyg, ' Humph ! Well, let me see : 

Oh ! true, she gave thee to me as my wife, — 
Her solitary representative ; 
She feared I should be lonely till she came, 
And counseled me, if thoughts of love should come. 
To speak those thoughts to thee, as I am wont 
To speak to her. 

Gal. That's right. 

Pyg' But \^hen she spoke. 

Thou wast a stone, now thou art flesh and blood, 
Which makes a difference ! 

Gal. It's a strange world ! 

A woman loves her husband very much, 
And can not brook that I should love him too ; 
She fears he will be lonely till she comes, 
And will not let me cheer his loneliness ; 
She bids him breathe his love to senseless stone, 
And when that stone is brought to life — be dumb ! 
It's a strange world — I can not fathom it ! 

Pyg. {aside). Let me be brave, and put an end to 
this. 



96 PYGMALION AND GALATEA. 

{aloud). Come, Galatea — till my wife returns, 
My sister shall provide thee with a home ; 
Her house is close at hand. 

Gal. {astonished and alarmed). Send me not 
hence, 
Pygmalion — let me stay ; 

Pyg. It may not be. 

Come, Galatea, we shall meet again. 

Gal. {resignedly). Do with me as thou wilt, Pyg- 
malion ! 
But we shall meet again } — and very soon } 

Pyg. Yes, very soon. 

Gal. And when thy wife returns, 

She'll let me stay with thee "i 

Pyg. I do not know. 

{aside) Why should I hide the truth from her (aloud) 

alas ! 
I may not see thee then. 

Gal. Pygmalion ! 

What fearful words are these .-* 

Pyg. The bitter truth. 

I may not love thee — I must send thee hence. 

Gal. Recall those words, Pygmalion, my love ! 
Was it for this that Heaven gave me life "^ 
Pygmalion, have mercy on me ; see, 
I am thy work, thou hast created me ; 
The gods have sent me to thee. I am thine. 
Thine ! only, and unalterably thine ! 
This is the thought with which my soul is charged. 
Thou tellest me of one who claims thy love, 



PYGMALION AND GALATEA. 97 

That thou hast love for her alone : Alas ! 
I do not know these things — I only know- 
That Heaven has sent me here to be with thee ! 
Thou tellest me of duty to thy wife, 
Of vows that thou wilt love but her ; Alas ! 
I do not know these things — I only know 
That Heaven, who sent me here, has given me 
One all-absorbing duty to discharge — 
To love thee, and to make thee- love again ! 

[During this speech Pygmalion has shown 
symptoms of irresolution ; at its conclusion 
he takes her in his arms, and embraces her 
passionately P[ 



ACT II. 

Scene : Same as Act I. 

[Pygmalion discovered at work on an unfin- 
ished statue.'] 

Pyg. To-morrow my Cynisca comes to me ; 
Would that she had never departed hence ! 
It took a miracle, to make me false, 
And even then I was but false in thought ; 
A less exacting wife might be appeased 
By that reflection. But Pygmalion 
Must be immaculate in every thought, 
Even though Heaven's armaments be ranged 
Against the fortress of his constancy ! 
9 



98 PYGMALION AND GALATEA. 

Enter Myrine, in great excitement. 

Myr. Pygmalion ! 

Pyg. Myrine ! 

Myr. Touch me not, 

Thou hast deceived me, and deceived thy wife ! 
Who is the woman thou didst send to me 
To share my roof last night ? 

Pyg. Be pacified ; 

Judge neither of us hastily ; in truth 
She is pure, as innocent as thou. 

Myr. Oh, miserable man — confess the truth ! 
Disguise not that of which she boasts aloud ! 

Pyg. Of what then does she boast ? 

Myr. To all I say 

She answers with one parrot-like reply, 
" I love Pygmalion " — and when incensed 
I tell her that thou hast a cheated wife, 
She only says, " I love Pygmalion, 
" I and my life are his, and his alone ! " 
Who is this shameless woman, sir ? Confess ! 

Pyg. Myrine, I will tell thee all. The gods, 
To punish my expressed impiety, 
Have worked a miracle, and brought to life 
My statue Galatea ! 

Myr. {incredulously). Marvelous, 
If it be true ! 

Pyg. It's absolutely true. 

(Myrine opejis the curtains aitdsees the pedestal empty . 

Myr. The statue's gone ! (Galatea appeal's at 
door.) 



PYGMALION AND GALATEA. 



99 



^y^' The statue's at the door ! 

Gal. At last we meet ? Oh ! my Pygmalion ! 
What strange, strange things have happened since 
we met. 
Pyg. Why, what has happened to thee ? 

^^^' Fearful things ! 

{To Myr.) I went with thee into thine house — 

^^- Well, well. 

Gal. And then I sat alone and wept — and wept 

A long, long time for my Pygmalion. 

Then by degrees, by tedious degrees, 

The light — the glorious light ! — the god-sent light ! 

I saw it sink — sink — sink — behind the world ! 

Then I grew cold — cold— as I used to be, 

Before my loved Pygmalion gave me life. 

Then came the fearful thought that, by degrees, 

I was returning into stone again ! 

How bitterly I wept and prayed aloud 

That it might not be so ! " Spare me, ye gods ! 

Spare me," I cried, *'for my Pygmalion. 

" A little longer for Pygmalion ! 

" Oh, take me not so early from my love ; 

" Oh, let me see him once — but once again ! " 

But no — they heard me not, for they are good, 

And had they heard, must needs have pitied me ; 

They had not seen thee, and they did not know 

The happiness that I must leave behind. 

I fell upon thy couch {To Myrine) ; my eyelids 

closed ; 
My senses faded from me one by one ; 



loo PYGMALION AND GALATEA. 

I knew no more until I found myself, 
After a strange dark interval of time, 
Once more upon my hated pedestal, 
A statue — motionless — insensible ; 
And then I saw the glorious gods come down ! 
Down to this room ! the air was filled with them ! 
They came and looked upon Pygmalion, 
And, looking on him, kissed him one by one. 
And said, in tones that spoke to me of life, 
" We can not take her from such happiness ! 
" Live, Galatea, for his love ! " And then 
The glorious light that I had lost came back — 
There was Myrine's room, there was her couch, 
There was the sun in heaven ; and the birds 
Sang once more in the great green waving trees, 
As I had heard them sing — I lived once more 
To look on him I love ! 

Myr. 'Twas but a dream ! 

Once every day this death occurs to us. 
Till thou and I and all who dwell on earth 
Shall sleep to wake no more ! 

Gal. To wake no more ? 

Pyg. That time must come — may be not yet 
awhile — 
Still it must come, and we shall all return 
To the cold earth from which we quarried thee. 

Gal. See how the promises of new-born life 
Fade from the bright hope-picture, one by one ! 
Love for Pygmalion, a blighting sin ; 
His love a shame that he must hide away ; 



PYGMALION AND GALATEA. loi 

Sleep, stone-like senseless sleep, our natural state ; 
And life a passing vision born thereof ! 
How the bright promises fade one by one ! 

Myr. Why there are many men whom thou 
may' St love ; 
But not Pygmalion — he has a wife. 

Gal. Does no one love him ? 

Myr. Certainly — / do. 

He is my brother. 

Gal. Did he give thee life .'* 

Myr. Why no ; but then — 

Gal. He did not give thee life, 

And yet thou lovest him ! And why not I 
Who owe my very being to his love .-* 

Pyg. Well, thou may'st love me — as a father. 

Myr. Yes ; 

He is thy father, for he gave thee life. 

Gal. Well, as thou wilt ; it is enough to know 
That I may love thee. Wilt thou love me too .-* 

Pyg. Yes, as a daughter ; there, that's under- 
stood. 

Gal. Then I am satisfied. 

Myr. {aside). Indeed I hope 

Cynisca also will be satisfied ! \Exit Myrine. 

Gal. {To Pyg.) Thou art not going from me.^ 

Pyg. For a while. 

Gal Oh, take me with thee ; leave me not alone 
With these cold emblems of my former self ! 

{Alluding to statues^ 
I dare not look on them ! 



102 PYGMALION AND GALATEA. 

Pyg. Leucippe comes, 

And he shall comfort thee till I return ; 
I'll not be long ! 

Gal. Leucippe ! Who's he ? 

Pyg. A valiant soldier. 

Gal. What is that ? 

Pyg. A man, 

Who's hired to kill his country's enemies. 

Gal. {Jiorrified). A paid assassin ! 

Pyg. {annoyed). Well, that's rather strong. 

There spoke the thoroughly untutored mind ; 
So coarse a sentiment might fairly pass 
With mere Arcadians — a cultured state 
Holds soldiers at a higher estimate. 
In Athens — which is highly civilized — 
The soldier's social rank is in itself 
Almost a patent of nobility. 

Gal. He kills ! And he is paid to kill ! 

Pyg. No doubt. 

But then he kills to save his countrymen. 

Gal. Whether his countrymen be right or wrong } 

Pyg. He don't go into that — it's quite enough 
That there are enemies for him to kill : 
He goes and kills them when his orders come. 

Gal. How terrible ! Why, my Pygmalion, 
How many dreadful things thou teachest me ! 
Thou tellest me of death — that hideous doom 
That all must fill ; and having told me this — 
Here is a man, whose business is to kill : 
To filch from other men the priceless boon 



PYGMALION AND GALATEA. 103 

That thou hast given me — the boon of life — 
And thou defendest him ! 

Pyg. I have no time 

To make these matters clear — but here he comes, 
Talk to him — thou wilt find him kind and good, 
Despite his terrible profession. 

Gal. {in great terror). No ! 

I'll not be left with him, Pygmahon. Stay ! 
He is a murderer ! 

Pyg^ Ridiculous ! 

Why, Galatea, he will harm thee not : 
He is as good as brave. I'll not be long, 
I'll soon return. Farewell ! \Exit, 

Gal. I will obey, 

Since thou desirest it ; but to be left 
Alone with one whose mission is to kill! 
Oh, it is terrible ! 

Enter Leucippe, with a Fawn that he has shot. 

Leuc. A splendid shot, 

And one that I shall never make again ! 

Gal. Monster ! Approach me not ! 

{Shrinking into corner^ 

Leiic. Why, who is this ? 

Nay, I'll not hurt thee, maiden ! 

Gal. Spare me, sir ! 

I have not done thy country any wrong ! 
I am no enemy ! 

Leuc. I'll swear to that ! 

Were Athens' enemies as fair as thou, 
She'd never be at loss for warriors. 



I04 PYGMALION AND GALATEA. 

Gal. Oh miserable man, repent ! repent ! 
Ere the stern marble claim you once again. 

Leuc. I don't quite understand — 

Gal. Remember, sir, 

The sculptor who designed you, little thought 
That when he prayed the gods to give you life, 
He turned a monster loose upon the world ! 
See, there is blood upon those cruel hands ! 
Oh touch me not ! 

Leuc. {aside). Poor crazy little girl ! 
Why — there's no cause for fear— I'll harm thee 

not — 
As for the blood, this will account for it {showing 
Fawn). 

Gal. What's that ? 

Leuc. A little fawn. 

Gal. It does not move ! 

Leuc. No, for I wounded her. 

Gal. Oh, horrible ! 

Leuc. Poor little thing ! 'Twas almost accident ; 
I lay upon my back beneath a tree, 
Whistling the lazy hours away — when lo ! 
I saw her bounding through a distant glade ; 
My bow was handy; in sheer wantonness 
I aimed an arrow at her, and let fly. 
Believing that at near a hundred yards 
So small a being would be safe enough. 
But, strange to tell, I hit her. Here she is ; 
She moves — poor little lady ! Ah, she's dead ! 

Gal. Oh, horrible ! oh, miserable man ! 



PYGMALION AND GALATEA. 105 

What have you done ? — {Takes Fawn into her 
arms) — 

Why, you have murdered her ! 
Poor httle thing ! I know not what thou art ; 
Thy form is strange to me ; but thou hadst Hfe, 
And he has robbed thee of it ! {Gives it back to 

Leuc.) Get you hence ! 
Ere vengeance overtake you ! 

Leuc. Well, in truth, 

I have some apprehension on that score. 
It was Myrine's — though I knew it not ! 
'Twould pain her much to know that it is dead ; 
So keep the matter carefully from her 
Until I can replace it. \Exit Leucippe with Fawn. 

Gal. Get you hence ; 

I have no compact with a murderer ! 

Enter Myrine. 

Myr. Why, Galatea, what has frightened thee ? 

Gal. Myrine, I have that to say to thee 
That thou must nerve thyself to hear. That man — 
The man thou lovest — is a murderer ! 

Myr. Poor little maid ! Pygmalion, ere he left. 
Told me that by that name thou didst describe 
The bravest soldier that our country owns ! 
He's no assassin, he's a warrior. 

Gal. Then what is an assassin ? 

Myr. One who wars 

Only with weak, defenseless creatures. One 
Whose calling is to murder unawares. 



io6 PYGMALION AND GALATEA. 

My brave Leucippe is no murderer 

Gal. Thy brave Leucippe is no longer brave, 
He is a mere assassin by thy showing. 
I saw him with his victim in his arms, 
His wicked hands dyed crimson with her blood ! 
There she lay, cold and stark — her gentle eyes 
Glazed with the film of death. She moved but once, 
She turned her head to him and tried to speak, 
But ere she could articulate a word 
Her head fell helplessly, and she was dead ! 

Myr. Why, you are raving, girl ! Who told you 
this > 

Gal. He owned it ; and he gloried in the deed. 
He told me how, in arrant wantonness, 
He drew his bow, and smote her to the heart ! 

Myr. Leucippe did all this ! Impossible ! 
You must be dreaming ! 

Gal. On my life, it's true. 

See, here's a handkerchief which still is stained 
With her life-blood — I stanched it with my hand, 

Myr. Who was his victim .'* 

Gal. Nay — I can not tell. 

Her form was strange to me — but here he comes ; 
Oh, hide me from that wicked murderer ! 

Enter Leucippe. 

Myr. Leucippe, can this dreadful tale be true .'* 
Leuc. {to Gal., aside). Thou should have kept my 
secret. See, poor girl, 
How it distresses her. {To Myr.) It's true enough, 



PYGMALION AND GALATEA. 107 

But Galatea should have kept it close, 
I knew that it would pain thee grievously. 

Myr. Some devil must have turned Leucippe's 
brain ! 
You did all this ? 

Leiic. Undoubtedly I did. 

I saw my victim dancing happily 
Across my field of view — I took my bow, 
And, at the distance of a hundred yards, 
I sent an arrow right into her heart. 
There are few soldiers who could do as much. 

Myr. Indeed, I hope that there are very few. 
Oh, miserable man ! 

Leuc. That's rather hard. 

Congratulate me rather on my aim, 
Of which I have some reason now to boast ; 
As for my victim — why, one more or less, 
What does it matter ? There are plenty left ! 
And then reflect — indeed, I never thought 
That I should hit her at so long a range ; 
My aim was truer than I thought it was, 
And the poor little lady's dead ! 

Myr. Alas ! 

This is the calmness of insanity. 
What shall we do } Go, hide yourself away — 

Leuc. But — 

Myr. Not a word — I will not hear thy voice, 
I will not look upon thy face again ; 
Begone ! 

Gal. Go, sir, or I'll alarm the house ! 



io8 PYGMALION AND GALATEA. 

• Leiic. Well, this is sensibility, indeed ! 
Well, they are women — women judge these things 
By some disjointed logic of their own, 
That is not given to man to understand. 
I'm off to Athens — when your reason comes 
Send for me, if you will. Till then, farewell. 

\Exit angrily. 

Myr. Oh, this must be a dream, and I shall wake 
To happiness once more ! 

Gal. A dream ! no doubt ! 

We both are dreaming, and we dream the same ! 
But by what sign, Myrine, can we tell 
Whether we dream or wake 1 

Myr. • There are some things 

Too terrible for truth, and this is one. 

Eitter Pygmalion, with Fawn. 

Pyg. Why, what's the matter with Leucippe, girl 1 
I saw him leave the house and mount his horse 
With every show of anger. 

Myr. He is mad, 

And he hath done a deed I dare not name. 
Did he say aught to thee before he left } 

Pyg. Yes ; when I asked him what had angered 
him 
He threw me this (jhowing Fawn). 

Gal. {in extreme of horror) — His victim ! take it 
hence ! 
I can not look at it ! 

Myr. Why, what is this } 

Gal. The being he destroyed in wantonness ; 



PYGMALION AND GALATEA. 109 



He robbed it of the life the gods had given. 
Oh ! take it hence, I dare not look on death ! 

Myr. Why, was this ^//he killed ? 

Gal. {astonished). All ! ! ! And enough ! 

Myr. Why, girl — thou must be mad! Pygma- 
lion — 
She told me he had murdered somebody, 
But knew not whom ! 

^^yS' The girl will drive us mad ! 

Bid them prepare my horse— I'll bring him back. 

{Exit Myrine. 
Gal. Have I done wrong .? Indeed, I did not know : 
Thou art not angry with me } 
^ PyS' • Yes, I am ; 

I'm more than angry with thee — not content 
With publishing thine unmasked love for me, 
Thou hast estranged Leucippe from his love 
Through thine unwarrantable foolishness. 

Ejiter MiMos. 

Mim. Sir, Chrysos and his Jady are without. 
Pyg. I can not see them now. Stay — show 
them in. 

{Exit MiMos. 
{To Gal.) Go, wait in there. I'll join thee very 
soon. 

{Exit Galatea. 

Enter Daphne. 

Daph. Where is Pygmalion } 
10 



no PYGMALION AND GALATEA. 

Pyg. Pygmalion's here. 

Daph. We called upon you many months ago, 
But you were not at home — so being here, 
We looked around us and we saw the stone 
You keep so carefully behind that veil. 

Pyg. That was a most outrageous liberty. 

Daph. Sir ! Do you know me 1 

Pyg. You are Chrysos' wife. 

Has Chrysos come with you t 

Daph. He waits without. 

I am his herald to prepare you for 
The honor he confers. Be civil, sir, 
And he may buy that statue ; if he does 
Your fortune's made ! 

Pyg. {to MiMOs). You'd better send him in. 

{Exit MiMOS. 

Enter Chrysos. 

Chry. Well — is the young man's mind prepared } 

Daph. It is ; 

He seems quite calm. Give money for the stone, 
I've heard that it is far beyond all price, 
But run it down ; abuse it ere you buy. 

Chry. {to Pyg.) Where is the statue that I saw 
last year .^ 

Pyg. Sir — it's unfinished — it's a clumsy thing. 
I am ashamed of it. 

Chry. It isn't good. 

There's want of tone ; it's much too hard and thin ; 
Then the half distances are very crude — 



PYGMALION AND GALATEA. m 



Oh — very crude indeed — then it lacks air, 
And wind and motion, massive Hght and shade ; 
It's very roughly scumbled ; on my soul 
The scumbling's damnable ! 

Daph. {aside to him). Bethink yourself ! 

That's said of painting — this is sculpture ! 

Chry. Eh ? 

It's the same thing, the principle's the same ; 
Now for its price. Let's see — what will it weigh ? 
Daph. A ton, or thereabouts. 
Chry. Suppose we say 

A thousand drachmas ? 

Pyg' No, no, no, my lord ! 

The work is very crude and thin, and then 
Remember, sir, the scumbling — 

Chry. Damnable ! 

But never mind, although the thing is poor, 
'Twill serve to hold a candle in my hall. 

Pyg. Excuse me, sir ; poor though that statue be, 
I value it beyond all price. 

Chry. Pooh, pooh ! 

I give a thousand drachmas for a stone 
Which in the rough would not fetch half that sum ! 
Daph. Why bless my soul, young man, are you 
aware 
We gave but fifteen hundred not long since 
For an Apollo twice as big as that ? 

Pyg. But pardon me, a sculptor does not test 
The beauty of a figure by its bulk. 
Chry. Ah ! then she does. 



112 PYGMALION AND GALATEA. 

Daph. Young man, you'd best take care, 

You are offending Chrysos ! [Exit. 

Chry. And his wife, {going) 

Pyg. I can not stay to enter into that 
Sir, once for all, the statue's not for sale. \Exit. 

Chry. Sir, once for all, I will not be denied ; 
Confound it — if a patron of the arts 
Is thus to be dictated to by art, 
What comes of that art patron's patronage } 
He must be taught a lesson — where's the stone .'' 

{Goes to pedestal and opens curtains) 
It's gone ! {Enter Galatea, Jie staj^es at Jier in 
astonishment) Hallo ! What's this } 

Gal. Are you unwell ? 

Chry. Oh, no — I fancied just at first — pooh, 
pooh ! 
Ridiculous. {Aside). And yet it's very like ! 
{Aloud). I know your face, haven't I seen you in — 
In — in {puzzling himself). 

Gal. In marble } Very probably. 

Chry. Oh, now I understand. Why this must be 
Pygmalion's model ! Yes, of course it is. 
A very bold-faced woman, I'll be bound. 
These models always are. I'll speak with her. 
Come hither, maiden. 

Gal. {who has been examinijtg him in great won- 
der). Tell, me, what are you .-* 

Chry. What am I .? 

Gal. Yes, I mean, are you a man } 

Chry. Well, yes ; I'm told so. 



PYGMALION AND GALATEA, 113 



G^i- Then believe them not, 

They've been deceiving you. 

Chry. The deuce they have ! 

Gal. A man is very tall, and straight, and strong. 
With big brave eyes, fair face, and tender voice. 
I've seen one. 

Chry. Have you } 

^^^- Yes, you are no man. 

Chry. Does the young person take me for a 
woman } 

Gal. A woman .? No ; a woman's soft and weak, 
And fair, and exquisitely beautiful. 
/ am a woman ; you are not like me. 

Chry. The gods forbid that I should be like you. 
And farm my features at so much an hour ! 

Gal. And yet I like you, for you make me laugh ; 
You are so round and red, your eyes so small, 
Your mouth so large, your face so seared with lines, 
And then you are so little and so fat ! 

Chry. {aside). This is a most extraordinary girl. 

Gal Oh, stay — I understand — Pygmalion's skill 
Is the result of long experience. 
The individual who modeled you 
Was a beginner very probably } 

Chry. {puzzled). No. I have seven elder broth- 
ers. Strange 
That one so young should be so very bold. 

Gal. This is not boldness, it is innocence ; 
Pygmalion says so, and he ought to know. 

Chry. No doubt, but I was not born yesterday. 



114 PYGMALION AND GALATEA. 

Gal. Indeed ! — / was. {He beckons her to sit 
beside him) 

How awkwardly you sit. 

Chry. I'm not aware that there is any thing 
Extraordinary in my sitting down. 
The nature of the seated attitude 
Does not leave scope for much variety. 

Gal. I never saw Pygmalion sit like that. 

Chry. Don't he sit down like other men ? 

Gal. Of course ! 

He always puts his arm around my waist, 

Chry. The deuce he does ! Artistic reprobate ! 

Gal. But you do not. Perhaps you don't know 
how ? 

Chry. Oh yes ; I do know how ! 

Gal. Well, do it then ! 

Chry. It's a strange whim, but I will humor her. 
You're sure it's innocence } {Does so.) 

Gal. Of course it is. 

I tell you I was born but yesterday. 

Chry. Who is your mother ? 

Gal. Mother! what is that.? 

I never had one. I'm Pygmalion's child ; 
Have people usually mothers ? 

Chry. Well, 

That is the rule. 

Gal. But then Pygmalion 

Is cleverer than most men. 

Chry. Yes, I've heard 

That he has powers denied to other men. 



PYGMALION AND GALATEA. 115 

And I'm beginning to believe it ! 

Enter Daphne. 

Daph. Why 

What's this ? (Chrysos quickly moves away from 
Gal.) 

Chry. My wife ! 

Daph. Can I beUeve my eyes.-* (Gal. rises.) 

Chry. No ! 

Daph. Who's this woman } Why, how very like — 

Chry. Like what ? 

Daph. That statue that we wished to buy. 

The self-same face, the self-same drapery, 
In every detail it's identical. 
Why, one would almost think Pygmalion, 
By some strange means, had brought the thing to 

life, 
So marvelous her likeness to that stone ! 

Chry. {aside.) A very good idea, and one that I 
May well improve upon. It's rather rash. 
But desperate ills need desperate remedies. 
Now for a good one. Daphne, calm yourself. 
You know the statue that we spoke of } Well, 
The gods have worked a miracle on it, 
And it has come to life. Behold it here ! 

Daph. Bah ! Do you think me mad } 

Gal. His tale is true. 

I was a cold unfeeling block of stone, 
Inanimate — insensible — until 
Pygmalion, by the ardor of his prayers, 



ii6 PYGMALION AND GALATEA. 



Kindled the spark of life within my frame, 
And made me what I am ! 

Chry. {aside to Gal.) That's very good ; 
Go on and keep it up. 

Daph. You brazen girl, 

I am his wife ! 

Gal. His wife } ( To Chrysos.) Then get you 
hence. 
I may not love you when your wife is here. 
Daph. Why, what unknown audacity is this ? 
Chry. It's the audacity of innocence : 
Don't judge her by the rules that govern you, 
She was born yesterday, and you were not! 
Enter Mimos. 
Mim. My lord, Pygmalion's here. 
Chry. {aside). He'll ruin all. 

Daph. {to Mimos). Who is this woman ? 

Chry. Why, I've told you, she 

Daph. Stop, not a word ! I'll have it from his 

lips ! 
Gal. Why ask him when I tell you — .? 
Daph: Hold your tongue ! 

{To Mimos.) Who is this woman } If you tell a. lie 
I'll have you whipped. 

Mim. Oh, I shall tell no lie ! 

That is a statue that has come to life. 

Chry. {Aside to Mimos). I'm very much obliged 
to you ! 

{Gives him 7Jt07iey.) 



PYGMALION AND GALATEA. 117 



Enter Myrine. 

^yr- What's this ? 

Is any thing the matter ? 

Daph. Certainly. 

This woman 

^y^' Is a statue come to life. 

Chry. I'm very much obliged to you I 

Enter Pygmalion. 

■^yS' How now 

Chrysos } 

Chry. The statue ! 

Daph. Stop ! 

^'^^y- Let me explain. 

The statue that I purchased 

Daph. Let rng speak. 
Chrysos — this girl, Myrine, and your slave, 
Have all agreed to tell me she is 

Pyg. The statue, Galatea, come to life ? 
Undoubtedly she is ! 

Chry. It seems to me, 

I'm very much obliged to every one ! 

Enter Cynisca. 
Cy7t. Pygmalion, my love ! 

PyS' Cynisca here ! 

Cyn. And even earlier than hoped to be. 
{Aside). Why, who are these .? {Aloud) I beg your 

pardon, sir, 
I thought my husband was alone. 



ii8 PYGMALION AND GALATEA. 

Daph. {maliciously). No doubt. 

I also thought my husband was alone : 
We wives are .too confiding. 

Cyjt. {aside to Pygmalion). Who are these } 

Pyg. Why, this is Chrysos, this is Daphne. They 
Have come — 

Daph. On very different errands, sir. 

Chrysos has come to see this brazen girl : 
/ have come after Chrysos — 

Chjy. As you keep 

So strictly to the sequence of events 
Add this — Pygmalion came after j^^^ / 

Cyn. Who is this lady {alluding to Galatea) } 
Why, impossible ! 

Daph. Oh, not at all ! 

Cyn. {turning to pedestal). And yet the statue's 
gone ! 

Pyg. Cynisca, miracles have taken place ; 
The gods have given Galatea life ! 

Cyn. Oh, marvelous ! Is this indeed the form 
That my Pygmalion fashioned with his hands 1 

Pyg. Indeed it is. 

Cyn. Why, let me look at her ! 

Yes, it's the same fair face — the same fair form ; 
Clad in the same fair folds of drapery ! 

GaL And dost thou know me then } 

Cyn. Hear her ! she speaks ! 
Our Galatea speaks aloud ! Know thee } 
Why I have sat for hours, and watched thee grow ; 
Sat — motionless as thou — wrapped in his work, 



PYGMALION AND GALATEA. 119 

Save only that in very ecstasy 

I hurried ever and anon to kiss 

The glorious hands that made thee all thou art ! 

Come — let me kiss thee with a sister's love {kisses 

her.) 
See, she can kiss ! 

Daph. Yes, I'll be bound she can ! 

Cyn, Why, my Pygmalion, where is the joy 
That ought to animate that face of thine, 
Now that the gods have crowned thy wondrous skill ? 

Chry. {aside to Pyg.) Stick to our story; bold- 
faced though she be, 
She's very young, and may perhaps repent ; 
It's terrible to have to tell a lie, 
But if it must be told — why, tell it well ! 

Cyn. I see it all. I have returned too soon. 

Daph. No, I'm afraid you have returned too late I 
Cynisca, never leave that man again. 
Or leave him altogether ! 

Cyn. {astonished). Why, what's this ? 

Gal. Oh, madam, bear with him, and blame him 
not; 
Judge him not hastily ; in every word, 
In every thought he has obeyed thy wish. 
Thou badst him speak to me as unto thee ; 
And he and I have sat as lovingly 
As if thou hadst been present to behold 
How faithfully thy wishes were obeyed ! 

Cyn. Pygmalion ! What is this ? 

Pyg. {to Gal.) Go, get thee hence ; 



120 PYGMALION AND GALATEA. 

Thou shoulclst not see the fearful consequence 
That must attend those heedless words of thine ! 

Gal. Judge him not hastily, he's not like this 
When he and I are sitting here alone. 
He has two voices, and two faces, madam. 
One for the world, and one for him and me ! 

Cyn. Thy wife against thine eyes ! those are the 
stakes ! 
Well, thou hast played thy game, and thou hast lost ! 

Pyg. Cynisca, hear me ! In a cursed hour 
I prayed for power to give that statue life. 
My impious prayer aroused the outraged gods, 
They are my judges, leave me in their hands ; 
I have been false to them, but not to thee ! 
Spare me ! 

Cyn. Oh, pitiful adventurer ! 

He dares to lose, but does not dare to pay ! 
Come, be a man ! See, / am brave enough, 
And I have more to bear than thou ! Behold ! 
I am alone, thou hast thy statue bride ! 
Oh, Artemis, my mistress, hear me now, 
Ere I remember how I love that man. 
And in that memory forget my shame ! 
If he in deed or thought hath been untruef 
Be just and let him pay the penalty ! 

(Pygmalion, with an exclamation, covers his 
eyes with his hands) 

Gal. Cynisca, pity him ! 

Cyn. I know no pity, woman ; for the act 
That thawed thee into flesh has hardened me 



PYGMALION AND GALATEA. 121 

Into the cursed stone from which thou cam'st. 
We have changed places ; from this moment forth 
Be thou the wife and I the senseless stone ! 

(^Thrusts Galatea from her.) 



ACT III. 

Scene : Sa^ne as Acts I. and II. 

Enter Daphne. 

Daph. It seems Pygmalion has the fearful gift 
Of bringing stone to life. I'll question him 
And ascertain how far that power extends. 

Enter Myrine, weeping. 

Myrine — and in tears ! Why, what's amiss ? 

Myr. Oh, we were all so happy yesterday, 
And now, within twelve miserable hours, 
A blight has fallen upon all of us. 
Pygmalion is blind as death itself, 
Cynisca leaves his home this very day, 
And my Leucippe hath deserted me ! 
I shall go mad with all this weight of grief ! 

Daph. All this is Galatea's work } 

Myr. Yes, all. 

Daph. But can't you stop her .? Shut the creature 
up. 
Dispose of her, or break her } Won't she chip ? 

Myr. No, I'm afraid not. 
II 



122 PYGMALION AND GALATEA. 

Daph. Ah, were I his wife, 

I'd spoil her beauty ! There' d be little chance 
Of finding him and her alone again ! 

Myr. There's little need to take precautions now. 
For he, alas ! is blind ! 

Daph. Blind ! What of that ? 

Man has five senses ; if he loses one 
The vital energy on which it fed 
Goes to intensify the other four. 
He had five arrows in his quiver ; well, 
He has shot one away, and four remain. 
My dear, an enemy is not disarmed 
Because he's lost one arrow out of five ! 

Myr. The punishment he undergoes might well 
Content his wife ! 

Daph. A happy woman, that ! 

Myr. Cynisca happy .-* 

Daph. To be sure she is ; 

She has the power to punish faithlessness, 
And she has used it on her faithless spouse. 
Had I Cynisca's privilege, I swear 
I'd never let my Chrysos rest in peace, 
Until he warranted my using it ! 
Pygmalion's wronged her, and she's punished him. 
What more could woman want 1 

Enter Cynisca. 

Cyn. What more } Why, this ! 

The power to tame my tongue to speak the words 
That would restore him to his former self ! 



PYGMALION AND GALATEA. 123 

The power to quell the fierce, unruly soul 

That battles with my miserable heart ! 

The power to say, " Oh, my Pygmalion, 

" My love is thine to hold or cast away, 

" Do with it as thou wilt ; it can not die ! " 

I'd barter half my miserable life 

For power to say these few true words to him ! 

Myr. Why, then there's hope for him ? 

Cyn. There's none indeed ! 

This day I'll leave his home and hide away 
Where I can brood upon my shame. I'll fan 
The smoldering fire of jealousy until 
It bursts into an all-devouring flame, 
And pray that I may perish in its glow ! 

Daph. That's bravely said, Cynisca ! Never fear ; 
Pygmalion will give thee wherewithal 
To nurture it. 

Cyn. {passionately). I need not wherewithal ! 
I carry wherewithal within my heart ! 
Oh, I can conjure up the scene at will 
When he and she sit lovingly alone. 
I know too well the devilish art he works. 
And how his guilty passion shapes itself. 
I follow him through every twist and turn 
By which he wormed himself into my heart ; 
I hear him breathing to the guilty girl 
The fond familiar nothings of our love ; 
I hear him whispering into her ear 
The tenderness that he rehearsed on me. 
I follow him through all his well-known moods — 



124 PYGMALION AND GALATEA. 

Now fierce and passionate, now fanciful ; 
And ever tuning his accursed tongue 
To chime in with the passion at her heart : 
Oh, never fear that I shall starve the flame ! 
When jealousy takes shelter in my heart, 
It does not die for lack of sustenance ! 

Daph. Come to my home, and thou shalt feed it 
there ; 
We'll play at widows, and we'll pass our time 
Railing against the perfidy of man. 

Cyn. But Chrysos ? — 

Daph. Chrysos ? Oh, you won't see him, 

Cyn. How so ? 

Daph. How so ? I've turned him out of doors ! 
Why, does the girl consider jealousy 
Her unassailable prerogative ? 
Thou hast thy vengeance on Pygmalion — 
He can no longer feast upon thy face. 
Well, Chrysos can no longer feast on mine ! 
I QdiD^t put out his eyes (I wish I could!) 
But I can shut them out, and that I've done. 

Cyn. I thank you, madam, and I'll go with you. 

Myr. No, no ; thou shalt not leave Pygmalion ; 
He will not live if thou desertest him. 
Add nothing to his pain — this second blow 
Might well complete the work thou hast begun ! 

Cyn. Nay, let me go — I must not see his face ; 
For if I look on him I may relent. 
Detain me not, Myrine — fare thee well ! 

{Exit Cynisca, MYKmY. follows her. 



PYGMALION AND GALATEA. 125 



Daph. Well, there'll be pretty scenes in Athens 
now 
That statues may be vivified at will. 

(Chrysos enters unobserved) 
Why, I have daughters — all of them of age — 
What chance is there for plain young women, now 
That every man may take a block of stone 
And carve a family to suit his tastes ? 

Chry. If every woman were a Daphne, man 
Would never care to look on sculptured stone ' 
Oh, Daphne ! 

Daph. Monster — get you hence, away ! 

ril hold no converse with you, get you gone. 
(Aside) If I'd Cynisca's tongue I'd wither him ! 
{Imitating CxmszK) ^'Oh, I can conjure up the 

scene at will 
" Where you and she sit lovingly alone ! 
" Oh, never fear that I will starve the flame : 
" When jealousy takes shelter in my heart, 
" It does not die for lack of sustenance ! " 

Chry. I'm sure of that ! your hospitality 
Is world-renowned. Extend it, love, to me ! 
Oh, take me home again ! 

Daph. Home? no, not I ! 

Why I've a gallery of goddesses, 
Fifty at least — half-dressed bacchantes, too — 
Dryads and water-nymphs of every kind ; 
Suppose I find, when I go home to-day, 
That they've all taken it into their heads 
To come to life — what would become of them, 



126 PYGMALION AND GALATEA. 

Or me, with Chrysos in the house ? No — no, 
They're bad enough in marble — but in flesh ! ! ! 
I'll sell the bold-faced hussies one and all, 
But till I've sold them, Chrysos stops outside ! 

Chry. What Jiave I done ? 

Daph. What have you 7iot done sir ? 

Chry. I can not tell you — it would take too long ! 

Daph. I saw you sitting with that marble minx. 
Your arm pressed lovingly around her waist. 
Explain that Chrysos. 

Chry. It explains itself : 

I am a zealous patron of the arts, 
And I am very fond of statuary. 

Daph. Bah — I've artistic tastes as well as you. 
But still, you never saw me sitting with 
My arms around a stone Apollo's waist ! 
As for this " statue " — could I see her now, 
I'd test your taste for fragments ! 

Chry. Spare the girl, 

She's very young and very innocent ; 
She claims your pity. 

Daph. Does she } 

Chry. Yes, she does. 

If I saw Daphne sitting with her arm 
Round an Apollo, I should pity him. 

Daph. {relenting). Would you "i 

Chry. I should, upon my word, I should. 

Daph. Well, Chrysos, thou art pardoned. After 
all 
The circumstances were exceptional. 



PYGMALION AND GALATEA. 127 



Chry. {aside). Unhappily, they were ! 

Daph. Come home, but mind 

I'll sell my gallery of goddesses ; 
No good can come of animating stone. 

Chry. Oh, pardon me — why every soul on earth 
Sprang from the stones Deucalion threw behind. 

Daph. But then Deucalion only threw the stones, 
He left it to the gods to fashion them. 

Chry. {aside — looking at her). And we who've 
seen the work the gods turn out. 
Would rather leave it to Pygmalion ! 

Daph. {taking Chrysos' ann, who is looking at a 
statue of Venus}) 
Come along, do ! [Exeunt. 

Enter Myrine, in great distress. 

Myr. Pygmalion's heard that he must lose his wife, 
And swears, by all the gods that reign above, 
He will not live if she deserts him now ! 
What — what is to be done ? 

Enter Galatea. 

Gal. Myrine here ! 

Where is Pygmalion ? 

Myr. Oh, wretched girl ! 

Art thou not satisfied with all the ill 
Thy heedlessness has worked, that thou art come 
To gaze upon thy victim's misery "i 
Well, thou hast come in time ! 

Gal. What dost thou mean } 



128 PYGMALION AND GALATEA. 

. — . 4. 

/ 

Myr. Why this is what I mean — he will ipt live 
Now that Cynisca has deserted him. 
Oh, girl, his blood will be upon thy head ! 

Gal. Pygmalion will not live ! Pygmalion die ! 
And I, alas, the miserable cause ! 
Oh, what is to be done ? 

Myr. I do not know. 

And yet there is one chance, but one alone ; 
I'll see Cynisca, and prevail on her 
To meet Pygmalion but once again. 

Gal. {wildly). But should she come too late } He 
may not live 
Till she returns. 

Myr. I'll send him now to thee. 

And tell him that his wife awaits him here. 
He'll take thee for Cynisca ; when he speaks, 
Answer thou him as if thou wast his wife. 

Gal. Yes, yes, I understand. 

Myr. Then I'll be gone. 

The gods assist thee in this artifice ! {Exit Myrine. 

Gal. The gods will help me, for the gods are good. 
Oh, Heaven, in this great grief I turn to thee. 
Teach me to speak to him, as, ere I lived, 
Cynisca spake to him. Oh, let my voice 
Be to Pygmalion as Cynisca's voice, 
And he will live — for her and not for me — 
Yet he will live. I am the fountain head 

Enter Pygmalion, unobserved, led by Myrine. 
Of all the horrors that surround him now, 



PYGMALION AND GALATEA. 129 

And it is fit that I should suffer this ; 
Grant this, my first appeal — I do not ask 
Pygmalion's love ; I ask Pygmalion's life ! 

(Pygmalion utters mi exclamation of joy. She 
rushes to him and seizes his hand) 
Pygmalion ! 

Pyg. I have no words in which 

To tell the joy with which I heard that prayer. 
Oh, take me to thine arms, my dearly loved ! 
And teach me once again how much I risked 
In risking such a heaven-sent love as thine. 

Gal. {believing that he refers to her). Pygmalion ! 
my love ! Pygmalion ! 
Once more those words ! again ! say them again ! 
Tell me that thou forgivest me the. ill 
That I unwittingly have worked on thee ! 

Pyg. ¥oYgbjQ thee? Why, my wife, I did not dare 
To ask thy pardon, and thou askest mine. 
The compact with thy mistress Artemis 
Gave thee a heaven-sent right to punish me. 
I've learnt to take whate'er the gods may send. 

(Galatea, at first delighted, lea7^ns in the course 
of this speech that Pygmalion takes her for 
Cynisca, a7id expresses extreme anguish) 
Gal. {with an effort) But then, this woman, Gala- 
tea — 
Pyg. Well } 

Gal. Thy love for her is dead .'' 
Pyg. I had no love. 

Gal. Thou hadst no love } 



/ 



I30 PYGMALION AND GALATEA. 

Pyg. No love. At first, in truth, 

In mad amazement at the miracle 
That crowned my handiwork, and brought to life 
The fair creation of my sculptor's skill, 
I yielded to her god-sent influence, 
For I had worshiped her before she lived 
Because she called Cynisca's face to me ; 
But when she lived — that love died, word by word. 

Gal. That is well said; thou dost not love her 
then ? 
She is no more to thee than senseless stone ? 

Pyg. Speak not of her, Cynisca, for I swear 

Enter Cynisca, unobserved. 

The unhewn marble of Pentelicus 

Hath charms for me, which she, in all her glow 

Of womanly perfection, could not match. 

Gal. I'm very glad to hear that this is so. 
Thou art forgiven ! {Kisses his forehead)) 

Pyg. Thou hast pardoned me. 

And though the law of Artemis declared 
Thy pardon should restore to me the light 
Thine anger took away, I would be blind, 
I would not have mine eyes lest they should rest 
On her who caused me all this bitterness ! 

Gal. Indeed, Pygmalion — 'twere better thus — 
If thou couldst look on Galatea now, 
Thy love for her, perchance, might come again ! 

Pyg. No, no. 

Gal. They say that she endureth pains 



PYGMALION AND GALATEA. 131 

That mock the power of words ! 

Pyg, It should be so ! 

Gal. Hast thou no pity for her ? 
Pyg. No, not I. 

The ill that she hath worked on thee — on me — 
And on Myrine — surely were enough 
To make us curse the hour that gave her life. 
She is not fit to live upon this world ! 

Gal. (bitterly). Upon this worthy world, thou say- 
est well. 
The woman shall be seen of thee no more. 

{Takes Cynisca's hand and leads her to Pyg.) 
What wouldst thou with her now } Thou hast thy 
wife ! 
{She substitutes Cynisca, and retires, weeping. 
Cynisca takes him to her arms and kisses 
him. He recovers his sight}) 
Pyg. Cynisca ! see ! the light of day is mine ! 
Once more I look upon thy well-loved face ! 

Enter Myrine a7td Leucippe. 

Leu. PygmaUon ! Thou hast thine eyes again ! 
Come — this is happiness indeed ! 

Pyg, And thou ! 

Myrine has recalled thee t 

Leu. No, I came, 

But more in sorrow than in penitence ; 
For I've a hardened and a blood-stained heart ! 
I thought she would denounce me to the law, 
But time, I found, had worked a wondrous change ; 



132 PYGMALION AND GALATEA, 



The very girl, who half-a-day ago 

Had cursed me for a ruthless murderer, 

Not only pardoned me my infamy, 

But absolutely hugged me with delight, 

When she, with hungry and unpitying eyes, 

Beheld my victim — at the kitchen fire ! 

The little cannibal ! 

Enter Galatea. 

Pyg. Away from me, 

Woman or statue ! Thou the only blight 
That ever fell upon my love — begone. 
For thou hast been the curse of all who fell 
Within the compass of thy waywardness ! 

Cyn. No, no — recall those words, Pygmalion, 
Thou knowest not all. 

Gal. Nay — let me go from him ; 

That curse — his curse — still ringing in mine ears. 
For life is bitterer to me than death. 

(She mounts the steps of pedestal^ 
Farewell, Pygmalion ! Farewell ! Farewell ! 

{The curtains conceal her.) 

Cyn. Thou art unjust to her as I to thee ! 
Hers was the voice that pardoned thee — not mine. 
I knew no pity till she taught it me. 
I heard the words she spoke, and little thought 
That they would find an echo in my heart ; 
But so it was. I took them for mine own, 
And asking for thy pardon, pardoned thee ! 

Pyg. {amazed). Cynisca ! Is this so .•* 



PYGMALION AND GALATEA. 133 

Cyn. In truth it is ! 

Gal. {behind curtain). Farewell, Pygmalion! Fare- 
well ! Farewell ! 
(Pygmalion ncshes to the veil and tears it away, 
di^coverijtg Galatea as a statue on the 
pedestal, as in Act I.) 



12 



CHARITY 



IN FOUR ACTS. 



DRAMATIS PERSON.^. 

Dr. Athelney, a Colonial Bishop- 
Elect Mr. Chippendale. 

Ted Athelney, his son, aged 38 ... Mr. Teesdale. 

Mr. Smailey, a Country Gentleman, 

aged do Mr. Howe. 

Fred Smailey, his son, aged 22 ... Mr. Kendal. 

Mr. Fitz Partington, a Private 

Inquiry Officer Mr. Buckstone. 

Butler Mr. Clark. 

Footman Mr. James. 

Mrs. Van Brugh, a widow, aged 35 Miss M. Robertson. 

(Mrs. Kendal.) 

Y-VE, her daughter, aged Y'] Miss Amy Roselle. 

Ruth Tredgett, a tramp, aged 37 Miss Woolgar. 

(Mrs. a. Mellon.) 

ACTS I. AND II. 
BOUDOIR IN MRS. VAN BRUGH'S COUNTRY HOUSE. 

ACT III. 
ROOM IN MR. SMAILEY' S HOUSE. 

ACT IV. 

LIBRARY AT DR. ATHELNEY' S. 

[A/ew days' interval between each Act."] 



CHARITY. 

ACT I. 

Scene : A pretty boudoir in Mrs. Van Brugh's 
country-house. 

Eve discovered with Frederick ; Frederick on 
chair y Eve on footstool. 

Fred, (dictating to Eve, zvho writes tn a memo- 
randum book at his feet). Let me see. Three 
hundred oranges, six hundred buns, thirty gallons 
of tea, twelve large plum cakes. So much for the 
school-children's bodies. As for their minds — 

Eve. Oh, we've taken great care of their minds. 
In the first place, the amateur minstrels from Lo- 
croft are coming, with some lovely part songs. 

Fred. Part songs. Come, that's well. Dr. Watts } 

Eve. Oh dear, no. Doctors Moore and Bur- 
gess ! — Much jollier. {He shakes his head gravely') 
Then we have a magic lantern. Here are the 
views. {Handing them) 

Fred, {examining them). A person on horseback, 
galloping at full speed. Here he is again. Proba- 
bly the flight of Xerxes. 

Eve. No — the flight of John Gilpin. 

Fred. Very trivial. Eve dear; very trivial. 
12* 137 



138 CHARITY. 

Eve. Oh, but it will amuse them much more 
than the flight of Xerxes. 

Fred, {gravely). My dear Eve, is this giddiness 
quite consistent with the nature of the good work 
before us ? 

Eve. Mayn't one be good and jolly too ? 

Fred. Scarcely. Grave work should be under- 
taken gravely, and with a sense of responsibility. 

Eve. But I don't call a school feast grave work. 

Fred. All work is grave when one has regard to 
the issues that may come of it. This school feast, 
trivial as it may seem to you — this matter of buns 
and big plum cakes — may be productive, for in- 
stance, of much — of much — 

Eve. Indigestion t That's grave indeed ! i^He 
seems annoyed.) There, I'm very sorry I teased 
you, dear old boy ; but you look at every thing 
from such a serious point of view. 

Fred. Am I too serious } Perhaps I am. And 
yet in my quiet undemonstrative way I am very 
happy. 

Eve. If yoti are not happy dear, who should be .^ 

Fred. Yes, Eve, who indeed ! {Kisses her.) 

Eve. I did not mean that. There is very little 
in me to make such a man as you happy, unless it 
be the prospect of making me as good and earnest 
as yourself — a poor prospect, I'm afraid, for I'm a 
very silly little girl. 

Fred. At least I will try. 

Eve. Begin now ; tell me of my faults. 



CHARITY, 139 

Fred. No, no; that would be a very ungrateful 
task. 

Eve. Oh, if you neglect all tasks that are not 
pleasant, you are too like me to allow of my 
hoping to learn any thing of you. 

Fred. Very aptly put, Eve. Well then, you are 
too giddy, and too apt to laugh when you should 
sigh. 

Eve. Oh, but I am naturally rather — jolly. Mam- 
ma has taught me to be so. Mamma's views are 
so entirely opposed to yours. 

Fred. Yes ; I am deeply sorry for it. If it 
were not so, perhaps Mrs. Van'Brugh would like 
me better. 

Eve. Mamma does like you, dear. She thinks 
you are very grave and precise and methodical, 
but I am sure she likes you — or why did she con- 
sent to our engagement .'* 

Fred. Because she loves you so well that she has 
the heart to thwart you in "nothing. She is an ad- 
mirable woman — good, kind — charitable beyond 
measure — beloved, honored, and courted by all — 

Eve. The best woman in the world ! 

Fred. But she does not understand me. Well, 
time will work a change, and I must be content to 
wait. 

Enter Servant. 

Servant. Mr. Edward Athelney, miss, is in the 
drawing room. 



I40 CHARITY. 

Eve. Dear me, how tiresome. 

Fred, {calmly). Miss Van Brugh is not at home. 

Eve {astojtished). Oh, Frederick, I am ! 

\_Exit Servant. 

Fred. Well, yes, of course in one sense you cer- 
tainly are. But being engaged upon a good work, 
with which an interruption would seriously inter- 
fere, you may be said — metaphorically, of course, 
and for the purposes of this particular case — to 
be, to a certain extent, out. 

Eve {puzzled). I am quite sure I am at home, 
dear, in every possible sense of the word. You 
don't dislike Edward, do you .-* 

Fred. You know very well that I dislike no one. 

Eve. I'm sure of that. You love all men. 

Fred. No doubt, Eve, I love all men. But you 
will understand that I love some men less than 
others ; and, although I love Edward Athelney 
very much indeed, I love him, perhaps, less than 
anybody else in the world. 

Eve. But this is quite astonishing! Has Ted 
Athelney a fault } What is it t Come, sir, name 
one fault if you can. And mind, he's my big 
brother, or as good, so be careful. 

Fred. " Prater nascitur non fit." 

Eve. Oh! 

Fred. I don't believe in your amateur brother. 
With every desire to confine himself to the duties 
of the character he undertakes, he is nevertheless 
apt to overlook the exact point where the brother 
ends and the lover begins. 



CHARITY. 141 

Eve {puzzled). The lover ! 

Fred. The brother by birth keeps well within 
bounds, but the amateur treads so often on the 
border line that in time it becomes obliterated and 
the functions merge. 

Eve. Ted Athelney a lover of mine ! Oh, that's 
too absurd. Ted Athelney — that great, clumsy, 
middle-aged, awkward, good-natured, apple-faced 
man, a lover of anybody's, and least of all, of mine ! 
Why he's forty! Oh, it's shocking — it's horrible ! 
I won't hear any thing so dreadful of any one I love 
so much. 

Fred. You admit that you love him t 

Eve. Oh, yes, I love him — but I don't love him. 
{Nestling against Fred.) Don't ^^/^ understand the 
difference } 

Fred. I don't like his calling you Eve. 

Eve. Why you wouldn't have him — oh, you never 
could want Ted Athelney to call me Miss Van 
Brugh } 

Fred. Then he kisses you. 

Eve. Of course he does, dear. Kisses me } So 
does mamma ! 

Fred. No doubt, but there's some difference. 

Eve. A difference ! What difference } 

Fred. This, if no other : that I object to the one, 
and don't object to the other. (Turns away) 

Eve. {disappointed). Then I'm not to kiss Ted 
Athelney any more. 



142 CHARITY, 

Enter Ted Athelney. 

Ted. Well, Eve, old lady, here I am, back again — 
well and hearty. 

Eve. Ted, stand back ; Fm not to kiss you. 

Ted. Eh } Why not t 

Eve. It's wrong. Isn't it ? {To Fred.) 

Fred. I'm sorry you think it necessary to ask 
the question. 

Eve. There, Ted. Only think of the wrong we've 
been doing for years and years, and never knew it ! 

Ted. But who told you it was wrong. Not con- 
science, I'll be sworn. 

Eve. No ; that's the worst of it. There's some- 
thing wrong with my conscience ; it doesn't seem 
to be up to its work. From some motive — mis- 
taken politeness, perhaps — it declines to assert 
itself. Awful, isn't it } 

Ted. Come, something's happened during my 
absence in town ; tell me what it is. 

Eve. Something of a tremendous nature has hap- 
pened ! Ted Athelney, I mustn't call you Ted 
Athelney any longer ! 

Ted. What.? 

Eve. And I mustn't let you kiss me, because I'm 
going to be married. 

Ted. Married ! {Starting^ 

Eve. Yes. 

Ted. To — } {Indicating Frederick.) 

Eve. Yes. {He is mnch agitated}^ Won't you 
tell me that you are glad to hear it .'* 



CHARITY. 



143 



Ted. {after a pause). Yes, Eve, I'm glad of any 
thing that makes you happy. It has come upon me 
very suddenly. I never thought of your getting 
married. I was a great ass, for it must have come 
about some time or other, and why not now } and it 
must have been to some fellow, and why not Fred 
Smailey } God bless you, Eve. I must get it well 
into my mind before I can talk about it, and mine is 
a mind that takes a good deal of getting at. I hope 
and believe that you will be happy. {She retires) 
Fred, old man — 

{Goes to Fred ; takes his hand a7id tries to 
speak ^ but iji vain) 

Enter Mrs. Van Brugh. 

Mrs. V. B. Well, I've done for myself now ; go 
away from me ; I'm a pariah, an outcast ; don't, for 
goodness' sake, be seen talking with me. 

Eve. Why, mamma, dear, what on earth have you 
been doing } 

Mi's. V. B. Doing } Listen and shudder ! I've 
put a Dissenter into my almshouses ! {Sits at table) 

Fred, {rising). A Dissenter .'* 

Mrs. V. B. A real live Dissenter. Isn't it awful! 

Fred. No, awful is too strong a term ; but I think 
it was a very, very sad mistake. 

Mrs. V. B. A thousand thanks for your tolera- 
tion — I shall never forget it. The village is out- 
raged — they have stood my eccentricities long 
enough. It was bad enough when I put a Roman 



144 CHARITY. 

Catholic in, but in consideration of the almshouses 
being my own they were good enough to swallow 
the Roman Catholic. Then came a Jew — well, 
the village was merciful, and with a few wry faces 
they swallowed even the Jew. But a Dissenter ! 
The line must be drawn somewhere, and High and 
Low Church are agreed that it must be drawn at 
Dissenters. The churchwardens look the other way 
when I pass. The clerk's religious zeal causes him 
to turn into the " Red Cow," rather than touch his 
hat to me, and even the dirty little boys run after 
me shouting " No Popery " at the top of their voices, 
though I'm sure I don't see how it applies. 

Fred. But, my dear Mrs. Van Brugh, you mean 
well I'm sure — but a Jew, a Catholic, and a Dis- 
senter ! — is there no such thing as a starving 
Churchman to be found } 

Mrs. V. B. There are but too many starving men 
of all denominations, but while I'm hunting out the 
Churchman, the Jew, the Catholic and the Dissen- 
ter will perish, and that would never do, would it } 

Fred. That is the Christianity of impulse. I 
would feed him that belonged to my own church, 
and if he did not belong to it, I would not feed him 
at all. 

Mrs. V. B. That is the Christianity of Religious 
Politics. As to these poor people, they will shake 
down and agree very well in time. Nothing is so 
conducive to toleration as the knowledge that one's 
bread depends upon it. It applies to all conditions 



CHARITY, 145 

of life, from almshouses to Happy Families. Where 
are you going ? 

Eve. We are going down to the school to see the 
cakes and oranges and decorations — 

Fred, (seriously). And to impress upon the chil- 
dren the danger of introducing inharmonious ele- 
ments into their little almshouses. 

Mrs. V. B. Well, I hope you'll be more success- 
ful with them than with me. Their case is much 
more critical than mine, I assure you. {Exeunt 
Eve and Fred. Mrs. Van Brugh sees Edward, 
who is sitting at back, with his head between his 
hands) Why, who's this } Edward Athelney, re- 
turned at last to his disconsolate village .'' Go away, 
sir — don't come near me ^you're a reprobate — 
you've been in London ten days and nobody to look 
after you. Give an account of yourself. It's awful 
to think of the villainy a thoroughly badly disposed 
young man can get through in ten days in London, 
if I'm not there to look after him — come, sir, all 
your crimes, please, in alphabetical order — now 
then, A — Arson. Any arson .? No } Quite sure .? 
Come now, that's something — Then we go to Bur- 
glary .>* Bigamy.-* No Bigamy.? Come, it's not as 
bad as I thought. — Why {seeing that he looks very 
wretched), what on earth is the matter — why, my 
poor Ted — what is distressing you } I never saw 
you look so wretched in my life ! 

Ted. Oh ! Mrs. Van Brugh, I'm awfully unhappy ! 

Mrs. V. B. My poor old friend — tell me all 
about it. 13 



146 CHARITY. 

Ted. It's soon told — Mrs. Van Brugh, you have 
a daughter, who's the best and loveUest girl I ever 
saw in my life. 

Mrs. V. B. {pause). My poor Edward ! 

Ted. Did — did you know that I — that I was like 
this ? 

Mrs. KB. No ! no ! no ! 

Ted. Nor I, it came on me like a thunderclap — 
my love for that little girl has grown as impercep- 
tibly as my age has grown — I've taken no note of 
either till now — when I rub my eyes and find that 
I love her dearly, and that I'm eight-and-thirty ! 

Mrs. V. B. But, surely you know — you must 
have heard — 

Ted. Yes, yes, I've just heard — Fred Smailey's 
a lucky fellow, and he deserves his luck. 

Mrs. V. B. Perhaps. I don't know. I don't like 
Fred Smailey. 

Ted. {amazed). You don't like Smailey.^ 

Mrs. V. B. No, I don't, and I'm afraid I show it. 
My dear old friend, it would have made me very 
happy to have seen you married to Eve, but he was 
first in the field, and she loves him. At first I 
wouldn't hear of it — but she fell ill — might have 
died — well I'm her mother, and I love her, and I 
gave in. I know nothing against him. 

• Ted. Oh, Fred Smailey's a good fellow, a thor- 
ough good fellow. You do him an injustice, indeed 
you do ; I never knew a man with such a sense of 
gratitude — it's perfectly astonishing. Remember 



CHARITY. 147 

how he gave me that splendid colly, when I pulled 
him out of the ice, last February, and how in return 
for my lending him money to pay his college debts, 
he got his father to let me shoot over Rushout — 
no — no— if Fred Smailey has a fault, he's too 
good for this world. 

Mrs. V.B. Ishe? — at all events he's too solemn. 

Ted. Here's the dad coming — he mustn't see me 
like this. Good-by, Mrs. Van Brugh. You won't 
speak of this to any one, I know — not that I've 
reason to be ashamed of it, but it'll pain Eve and 
Fred too. I'll bear up, never fear, and Eve shall 
never know — after all, her happiness is the great 
end, and, so that it's brought about, what matter 
whether Fred or I do it, so that it's done. It's 
Fred's job, not ;nine— better luck for him, worse 
luck for me. {Exit. 

Mrs. V. B. Poor fellow ! There goes a heart of 
gold with a head of cotton-wool ! Oh, Eve, Eve, my 
dear, I'm very sad for you ! Is it head or heart that 
makes the best husband .? Better that baby-hearted 
simpleton than the sharpest Smailey that ever 
stepped ! I'm very unjust. Heaven knows that I, 
of all women in this world, should be slow to jud^-e. 
But my dislike to that man, to his family, to every 
thing that relates to him, is intuitive. However, 
the mischief, if mischief there be, is done; I'll 
make the best of it. 



148 CHARITY, 

Enter Dr. Athelney, very hurriedly. 

Dr. A. My dear Mrs. Van Brugh, I come with- 
out a moment's loss of time, to thank you in my 
late curate Twemlow's name for your great kind- 
ness in presenting him to the Crabthorpe living. 
He has a wife and four children, and is nearly mad 
with joy and gratitude. Fve brought you his 
letter. 

Mrs. V. B. \ won't read it, doctor. I can't bear 
gratitude ; it makes my eyes red. Take it away. I 
am only too glad to have helped a struggling and 
deserving man. Now, I'm very glad you've come, 
because I want to consult you on a business matter 
of some importance. 

Dr. A. My dear Mrs. Van Brugh, I have been the 
intellectual head of this village for fifty-three years, 
and nobody ever yet paid me the compliment of 
consulting me on a matter of business. 

Mrs. V. B. Then I've no doubt I'm going to hit 
upon a neglected mine of commercial sagacity ! 

Dr. A, It's very possible. I was second wrangler 
of my year. 

Mrs. V. B. \ told you last night of Eve's engage- 
ment. Well, old Mr. Smailey has sent me a note 
to say that he will call on me to-morrow week to 
talk over the settlement I propose to make on the 
occasion of my darling's marriage with his son. 
Now, doctor, look as wise as you can, and tell me 
what I ought to do. 



CHARITY, 149 

Dr. A. Well, in such a case I should be very 
worldly. I think, my dear, I should prepare a nice 
little luncheon, with a bottle of that Amontillado, 
and then, having got him quietly and cosily tete-^- 
tete, I should ask him what he proposes to do. 

xWrs. V. B. Very good indeed, doctor. Upon 
my word, for a colonial bishop-elect, that's not bad. 
But, unfortunately, I've already ascertained that he 
proposes to do nothing. All his money is tied up. 

Dr. A. Oh, is it indeed .? Bless me ! Tied up, 
is it } And may I ask, what do you understand by 
that expression } 

Mrs. V. B. Well, in round terms, it's his, but he 
mustn't spend it. Do you understand } 

Dr. A. Oh, yes. When I, was a boy my uncle 
gave me a guinea on those terms. 

Mrs. V. B. Now come, doctor dear, the young 
people look to me, and, when one is looked to, one 
should be equal to the emergency. What would 
you advise me to do } 

Dr. A. Your property is not, I suppose, tied up ? 

Mrs. V. B. No ; it is quite unfettered, and con- 
sists principally of long leaseholds and funded 
property, left me by my godfather, and a small 
sum of money acquired by Captain Van Brugh on 
his first marriage. 

Dr. A. His first marriage ! Bless me, I never 
knew he had been married before. 

Mrs. V. B. Yes {much agitated), a most unhap- 
py match. She — she left him under discredit- 



150 CHARITY. 

able circumstances — went to Australia — resumed 
her maiden name, and, under that name, died in 
Melbourne. 

Dr. A, And when did this unhappy lady die ? 

Mrs. V. B. (still agitated). Oh! years ago — 
It's a terrible story. I don't like to think of it — I 
can't bear to talk of it. 

Dr. A. {aside). What a blundering old savage I 
am ! If there is a pitfall open, ten to one I tumble 
into it! {Aloud) I have always understood that 
where marriage settlements of any consideration 
are concerned, it is customary to employ a solicitor. 
I can't quote my authority, but, I feel sure that I 
am right. 

Mrs. V. B. Old Mr. Smailey is an executor under 
Captain Van Brugh's will, and his solicitor has 
always acted for me. 

Dr. A. His solicitor ! what, that queer little red- 
faced fellow who accompanies him everywhere } 

Mrs. V.B. No. Ha! ha! ha! I suppose Mr. Fitz 
Partington is a junior partner, or head clerk, or 
something of the kind — at all events, his name 
doesn't appear in the firm. 

Dr. A. Well, leave it to me, Mrs. Van Br ugh, 

and I'll write to my brother, the Vice-Chancellor, 

who will tell us what to do. Now I'm off. (Noise 

without) Why — what's this } Bless me, Mrs. 

Van Brugh, what is the cause of this commotion .^ 

(Noise heard without, as of people struggling 

' with a woman, who rudely expostulates 

with them) 



CHARITY. 151 

Mrs. V. B. Why, what in the world is the matter ? 

Enter three or four Servant Men with Ruth 
Tredgett in custody. She is wild-looking 
and dishevelled, as if she had been struggling 
violently. 

Groom. We've got her, ma'am. Don't be afraid. 
(To Ruth.) Stand quiet, you jade, will yer ? Woa, 
there ! We've got her, sir, but we've had a desper- 
ate hard job to do it. 

Dr. A. What has been done } 

Groorfi. She's knocked two teeth clean out of my 
head, sir, and give notice to quit to a dozen more. 

Dr. A. We will hear your grievance presently. 
What has this woman done that she is brought 
here t 

All. Done, sir, why — 

But. (with dignity to the others). If you please ! 
(To Mrs. Van Brugh) Ma'am, Edwards found this 
here woman creepin' out of my pantry, ma'am, on 
all fours. 

Dr. A. On what.? 

But. On her hands and knees, like a quadruped, 
sir. 

Dr. A. Have you searched her } 

But. (shocked). No, sir, I have 7iot searched her. 

Dr. A. Well, well, I mean has she been searched } 

But. (zvith dignity). I put my hand in her 
pocket, sir, and I looked under her shawl. 

Dr. A. Well, you didn't search her, but you put 



152 CHARITY. 

your hand in her pocket, and you looked under her 
shawl. What did you find there ? 

But. A decanter of sherry, sir. (Producing it.) 

Dr. A. {to Mrs. V. B.). Your sherry, Mrs. Van 
Brugh } 

But. Our sherry, Dr. Athelney. 

Dr. A. Well, you hear what this man says; did 
you take this wine .'* 

Ruth. Ay, I took it, sure enough. 

Dr. A. Why did you take it } 

Ruth. Why, to drink, of course. Why should I 
take it 1 

Dr. A. You shouldnt take it. 

Ruth. Don't you never take wine } 

Dr. A. Not other people's wine — except, of 
course, with their permission. 

Ruth. Maybe you've got a cellar of your own. 

Dr. A. Maybe I have. 

Rttth. Well, maybe / haven't. That's my 
answer. 

Dr. A. Now, what are we to do with her } 

Mrs. V. B. Leave her to me. Dr. Athelney, 
please remain here with me. Every one else, 
except the woman, leave the room. 

But. She's a desperate character, ma'am ; it took 
six of us, including me, to bring her here. 

Mrs. V. B. Never mind. Dr. Athelney and I 
will see her alone. Take your hands from her and 

go. 

But. Hadn't we better keep within hearing } If 
help was wanted — 



CHARITY, 153 

Mrs. V. B. No help will be wanted. I am in 
earnest. Go. Shut the door. {The Servants 
reluctantly depart)} 

Ruth. You're a cool hand, missis ; ain't you 
afeard on me ? 

Mrs. V. B. Not at all. Why should I be afraid 
of you 1 I mean you no harm. 

Ruth. Who's he .? 

Mrs. KB, Dr. Athelney, a clergyman and a 
magistrate. 

Rtith. Beak, is he ? Well, let him make out the 
committal. Where's it to be .-* Sessions ? 

Mrs. V. B. We have no wish to prosecute you. 
We wish to help you to arrive at a sense of right 
and wrong. 

Ruth. Can't it be done without a parson .-* I 
dunno much good o' parsons. I'd rather it was 
done without a parson. 

Dr. A. {kindly). Don't think of me as a clergy- 
man, if that calling is distasteful to you. Perhaps 
some day we may succeed in overcoming your 
prejudice. In the mean time, think of me only as 
a harmless old gentleman, who is willing and able 
to help you to earn your living respectably, if you 
desire to do so. 

Ruth. Ah, I've come across the likes o' you afore 
now. Three weeks agone comes a parson, as it 
might be you. " I've come to help you, poor fallen 
creetur," says he ; " I've come to tell you blessed 
truths, poor miserable outcast," says he. " Read 



154 CHARITY. 

that, wretched lost sheep," says he. " I'll call 
again in a month and see how you feel," says he. 
A month ! Heugh ! When I was bad with fever 
the doctor come every day. He never come no 
more. There's ladies come odd times. I call to 
mind one — come in a carriage sJie did. Same 
story — poor, miserable, lost one — wretched aban- 
doned fellow-creetur, and that. She called me a 
brand from the burnin', and wanted to stretch out 
a hand to save me, she did. Well, she stretched- it 
out, and I thought she meant it (for I was green 
then), and, fool-like, I took it, and kissed it. She 
screeched as though I'd bit her ! 

Mrs. V. B. Will you take my hand .-* 

Ruth, {astonished). Do you know what I am .-* 

Mrs. V. B. Yes ; I know well what you are. You 
are a woman who wants help, and I a woman who 
will help you. {Taking her hand). 

Ruth, {miich moved). Thankee, missis ! you've 
spoke fair to me. I've had no one speak like 
that to me for many a long year. Thankee, missis. 
{Struggling with tears)) Don't mind me. {Throws 
her apron over her face and sobs.) They will come 
odd times ! 

Mrs. V. B. Will you tell me your name ? 

Ruth. Ruth Tredgett. I come from Cambridge. 

Dr. A. Born there .'* 

Ruth. I dunno as I was born there, but I come 
from there. 

Dr. A. What are you } 



CHARITY, 155 

Ruth. I s'pose I'm a thief. I s'pose I'm what 
gentlefolk thinks is wus than a thief. God help 
me ! I s'pose I'm as bad as I can be. ( Weeping.) 

Mrs. V. B. Are your parents alive .'' 

Rtit/u No, I never had no father — my mother 
was such as me. See here, lady. Wot's to 
become of a gal whose mother was. such as me .? 
Mother ! Why, I could swear afore I could walk ! 

Dj\ a. But were you not brought up to any. 
calling } 

Ruth. Yes, sir, I were ; I were brought up to be 
a thief. Every soul as I knowed was a thief, and 
the best thief was the best thought on. Maybe a 
kid not long born ought to have knowed better. I 
dunno, I must ha' been born bad, for it seemed 
right enough to me. Well, it was in prison and 
otct o prison — three months here and six months 
there — till I v/as sixteen. I sometimes thinks as 
if they'd bin half as ready to show me how to go 
right as they was to punish me for goin' wrong, I 
might have took the right turnin' and stuck to it 
afore this. At sixteen I got seven year for shop- 
liftin', and was sent out to Port Philip. I soon got 
a ticket and tried service and needlework, but no 
one wouldn't have me ; and I got sick and tired of 
it all, and began to think o' putting a end to it, 
when I met a smooth-spoken chap — a gentleman, 
if you please — as wanted to save me from the 
danger afore me. Well, wot odds .? • He was a 
psalm-singing villain, and he soon left me. No 



156 CHARITY. 

need to tell the rest — to such as you it can't be 
told. I'm 'most as bad as I can be — as bad as I 
can be ! 

Mrs. V. B. I think not ; I think not. What do 
you say, Doctor ? 

Dr. A. {struggling with his tears). Say, ma'am ? 
I say that you, Ruth Tredgett, have been a most 
discreditable person, and you ought to be heartily 
ashamed of yourself, Ruth Tredgett ; and as a 
clergyman of the Church of England I feel bound 
to tell you that — that your life has been — has 
been what God knows it couldn't well have helped 
being under the circumstances. 

Mrs. V. B. Ruth Tredgett, I am very, very 
sorry for you. If you are willing to leave this 
unhappy course of life I will provide you with the 
means of earning your living honestly. 

Ruth. Honestly ! Why, lady, I'm too fur gone 
for that ! 

Mrs. V. B. I hope not. I have assisted many, 
very many such women as yourself, and I have 
seldom found my efforts wasted. 

Ruth. But you — a lady, high-born, high-bred, 
beautiful, rich, good — {In amazement)) 

Mrs. V. B. Hush. {Rises.) No matter what I am. 
( With emotion.) Who shall say what the very best 
of us might not have been but for the accident of 
education and good example } Tell me, Ruth 
Tredgett, will you accept my offer } 

Ruth {kneels at her feet aftd looks up htto her 
face). I will ! 



CHARITY. 



157 



ACT II. 

Scene : same as i7t Act I. 
Enter Mr. Smailey and Servant. 

Mr. S. {very gently). Will you have the good- 
ness to tell Mrs. Van Brugh that Mr. Smailey is 
here to see her, by appointment ? 

Serv. Mr. Smailey, sir .? Yes, sir. {Going) 

Enter Mr. Fitz Partington. 

Fitz. {stopphig Servant). And his solicitor. 

Mr. S. {with mild sternness). You have followed 
me again, sir } 

Fitz. Followed you again, sir; according to 
contract. 

Mr. S. There is no contract between us that 
entitles you to dog my footsteps as though you 
were hunting down a thief. 

Fitz. Hunting down a thief .^^ Oh, yes. To 
enable me to assist you in blighting the character 
of the best and loveliest woman that ever shed a 
light upon a private detective's thorny path, I am 
to have the free run of your house and papers ; I 
am to accompany you wherever you go, and you 
are to introduce me everywhere as your solicitor. 

Mr. S. Sir, you are not in the least like a solici- 
tor. You are a ridiculously dressed person. You 
are like nothing in the world but what you are — a 

"4 



158 CHARITY. 

private detective. I desire to press hardly on no 
fellow-creature, but you are a spy! that base and 
utterably abject thing — a spy ! 

Fitz. Mr. Smailey, when you complain that you 
find my society irksome, you have my profoundest 
sympathy ; I find it so myself. When you revile 
my profession, my sentiments are entirely in accord, 
for I have the very poorest opinion of it. But 
when you imply that I don't look the character I 
undertake to represent, why then, sir, you touch the 
private detective on the most sensitive part of his 
moral anatomy. I'm not a blameless character, but 
if I undertook to personate the Archbishop of Can- 
terbury I believe I should look the part, and my 
conversation would be found to be in keeping with 
the character. 

Mr. S. Pray, silence ; oh, pray, pray, silence. 
You shock me inexpressibly. It is most painful to 
me to have to resort to your assistance. My son, 
my dear son, has engaged himself to marry Mrs. 
Van Brugh's daughter. I have lately had reason to 
beheve that there is something discreditable in Mrs. 
Van Brugh's marriage relations, though I do not 
know its precise nature. You tell me that you 
have a certain clew to this flaw, though you decline 
to tell me what it is until your proofs are matured. 
Well, sir, the Smaileys are a very old and very 
famous family. Caius Smaileius came over with 
Julius Caesar ; his descendants have borne an 
untarnished scutcheon for eighteen hundred years. 



CHARITY. 159 

In its interest I am bound to employ you, and upon 
your own most exacting terms, though I can not 
think of your contemptible calling without a feel- 
ing of the most profound abhorrence. 

Fitz. Sir, I am heartily ashamed of it. 

Mr. S. You are a professional impostor ; a hired 
lie. 

Fitz, It is too true. I not only lie myself, but I 
am the cause of lying in others. 

Mr. S. For the lies that have to be told in 
accounting for you I hold you entirely responsible. 
I wish that to be understood. I wash my hands of 
them altogether, and, when I think of the deep, 
deliberate, and utterly indefensible falsehoods that 
I have had to utter on your behalf, I tremble for 
your future — I tremble for your future. 

Fitz. Unselfish man. 

Mr. S. As for the preposterous terms you have 
dictated — 

Fitz. Terms ! I have insured to myself the un- 
broken enjoyment of your desirable' society for six 
weeks, and believe me, when I say that if I had 
been acquainted with the inexpressible charms of* 
the most fascinating woman that ever shed a light 
upon the private detective's thorny path, I wouldn't 
have undertaken the job, no, not even for a lifetime 
of your society ! 

Enter Mrs. Van Brugh. • 
Mrs. V. B. Good morning, Mr. Smailey. I am 



i6o CHARITY, 

sorry to have kept you waiting. {Aside) That 
absurd little man with him again. {Aloud) Good 
morning, Mr. 

Fitz. Fitz Partington. 

Mrs. V. B. Fitz Partington, of course. 

Fitz. {aside). She might remember my nam.e. I 
can't conceive any circumstances under which I 
could forget hers ! 

Mr. S. Mr. Fitz Partington is entirely in my con- 
fidence. I brought him, because I believed that his 
familiarity with legal forms might assist us in our 
interview. You can speak without reserve before 
Mr. Fitz Partington. {Aside to Fitz.) A lie, sir ! 
Another lie, from first to last ! 

Mrs. V. B. \ suppose the facts will come before 
Mr. Fitz Partington when they are decided on. 
The steps by which they are arrived at will only 
bore him. I'm sure Mr. Partington won't be angry 
with me, when I ask him to amuse himself in the 
next room until preliminaries are arranged. 

Fitz. Mrs. Van Brugh, I have made it a part of 
my moral code to step without hesitation into any 
apartment you may think fit to indicate. \Exit. 

Mrs. V. B. Now, Mr. Smailey, about these settle- 
ments. I will tell you at once what I propose to do. 
My income is, as you know, a . very large one — 
much larger than any one would suppose who 
judges from the quietness of my mode of life. I 
am an odd woman, and I spend my money in my 
own way. I have very many claims upon it, and, 



CHARITY. i6i 

although I wish to deal handsomely with my dar- 
ling Eve, I must not disappoint those who have 
counted upon me for some years past. To come to 
the point, I propose to settle my Buckinghamshire 
farm upon her, on the usual terms of a marriage 
settlement. I don't know the technical expression 
— but on the usual terms. 

Mr. S. The Buckinghamshire farm, yes. Thank 
you. I forget whether that is the leasehold or the 
freehold farm, for you have two. 

Mrs. V. B. You mustn't ask me. Your solicitor 
knows. It's worth ;^5oo a year, and that, I sup- 
pose, is the main point. 

Mr. S. Not altogether ; the difference in value 
may be prodigious. Have you a copy of the will ? 

Mrs. V. B. No. I never saw the will. 

Mr. S. Never saw the will .'* . I think I have a 
copy of it at home — with your permission, I will 
go and fetch it, and the matter can be decided at 
once. 

Mrs. V. B. Do, by all means. I only know that 
my property is all my own, and that I can do what 
I like with it; and I assure you, Mr. Smailey, I 
avail myself of the privilege. 

Mr. S, You do indeed. And that reminds me, 
Mrs. Van Brugh, that I am anxious to speak to you 
on another topic — a topic of a singularly painful 
character. I will endeavor, Mrs. Van Brugh, to 
approach it as delicately as possible. 

Mrs. V. B. Indeed ! {Alarmed) You rouse my 
14* 



i62 CHARITY, 

curiosity, Mr. Smailey. Does it — does it refer in 
any way to myself ? 

Mr. S. Directly to yourself. 

Mrs. V. B. {much alarmed). May I ask in what 
way .'* 

Mr. S. As I said before, it is a most difficult 
subject to approach, and I would willingly spare 
you. Give me a moment to think how I can best 
put it to you. 

Mrs. V. B. Pray have no hesitation in telling me 
what it is. ( IVith Jialf-disguised emotion) Does it 
— does it refer in any way to my — to my past life, 
for instance ? ( With affected cheerfitlness}) 

Mr. S. It does refer to incidents in your past 
life. To many incidents in general, and to one 
incident in particular. 

Mrs. V. B. For Heaven's sake, sir, be explicit. 
Speak out, I implore you. ( With suppressed agita- 
tion) 

Mr. S. You seem strangely agitated, Mrs. Van 
Brugh. 

Mrs. V. B. No, no ; I am ill and nervous to-day. 
Your manner is rather alarming. ( With affected 
cheerfulness) You know I'm a very bad hand at 
guessing riddles, Mr. Smailey. Come, what is it t 
I give it up. {He hesitates) Why have you any 
hesitation in telling me t 

Mr. S. Because it involves a particularly delicate 
moral point. {She is much agitated.) God bless 
me, you seem very much alarmed. 



CHARITY. 163 

Mrs. V. B. {with determination). Mr. Smailey, 
once and for all, I insist upon knowing what it is. 

Mr. S. Well, then, to be quite plain with you, it 
is currently reported in the village that you have 
taken a miserable woman from the streets and 
established her in the character of a respectable 
workwoman within a hundred yards of this spot. 
(Mrs. Van Brugh, ivhose agitation and alarm have 
been intense, is greatly relieved.) Moreover, I have 
been informed that you have, for some years past, 
been in the habit of searching out women of bad 
character who profess penitence, with the view of 
enabling them to earn their living in the society of 
blameless Christians. 

Mrs. V. B. I have. 

Mr. 5.' I tell you at once that I am loath to 
believe this thing. 

Mrs. V. B. {with indignant surprise). Why are 
you loath to believe this thing .? 

Mr. S. Why 1 {Rises.) Because its audacity, its 
want of principle, and, above all, its unspeakable 
indelicacy, shock me beyond the power of expres- 
sion. 

Mrs. V. B. Mr. Smailey, is it possible that you 
are speaking deliberately } Think of any blameless 
woman whom you love and honor, and who is loved 
and honored of all. Think of the shivering outcast 
whose presence is contamination, whose touch is 
horror unspeakable, whose very existence is an 
unholy stain on God's earth. Woman — loved, 



i64 CHARITY. 

honored, courted by all. Woman — shunned, 
loathed, and unutterably despised, but still — 
Woman. I do not plead for those whose advan- 
tages of example and education render their fall 
ten thousand times more culpable. Let others 
speak for such as they. ( With a broken voice) — 
It may be that something is to be said, even for 
them. I plead for those who have had the world 
against them from the first — who with blunted 
weapons and untutored hands have fought society 
single-handed, and fallen in the unequal fight. God 
help them ! 

Mr. S. Mrs. Van Brugh, I have no desire to 
press hardly on any fellow-creature, but society, 
the grand arbiter in these matters, has decided 
that a woman who has once forfeited her moral 
position shall never regain it. 

Mrs. V. B. Even though her repentance be sin- 
cere and beyond doubt ? 

Mr. S. Even so. 

Mrs. V. B. Even though she fell unprotected, 
unadvised, perishing with want and chilled with 
despair .-* 

Mr. S. Even so. For such a woman there is no 
excuse — for such a woman there is no pardon. 

Mrs. V. B. You mean no pardon on earth } 

Mr. S. Of course I mean no pardon on earth. 
What can I have to do with pardon elsewhere } 

Mrs. V. B. Nothing. Mr. Smailey, when you 
have procured the will, I shall be ready to see you ; 



CHARITY. 165 

but before you go let me tell you that I am inex- 
pressibly shocked and pained at the terrible theory 
you have advanced. {He endeavors to speak) Oh, 
understand me, I do not charge you with excep- 
tional heartlessness. You represent the opinions 
of society, and society is fortunate in its mouth- 
piece. Heaven teaches that there is a pardon for 
every penitent. Earth teaches that there is one 
sin for which there is no pardon — when the sinner 
is a woman ! 

(Ruth has e7itered. She is quietly and decently 
dress edy and carries a parcel of needlework 
in her hand) 

Mr. S. {aside). Mrs. Van Brugh, pray be quiet ; 
we are observed. 

Mrs. V. B. By the subject of our conversation. 

{Exit Mrs. Van Brugh. 

Ruth. I beg pardon — I thought the lady was 
alone. {Going^ 

Mr. S. Stop, woman. {She turns and advances) 
Don't — don't approach me — we have nothing in 
common. Listen at a distance. Mrs. Van Brugh 
has thought proper to place you on a pedestal that 
levels you, socially, with respectable Christians. In 
so doing, I consider that she has insulted respect- 
able Christians. She thinks proper to suffer you 
to enter my presence. In so doing I consider that 
she has insulted me. I desire you to understand 
that when a woman of your stamp enters the 
presence of a Christian gentleman, she — 



i66 CHARITY. 

Ruth (who has been looking at him in wonder 
during this speech). S m alley ! That's never j^^?// 
(Mr. S. falls back in his chair) 

Ruth. Ay, Smalley, It's Ruth Tredgett. 

Mr. S. {very confused). I did not know whom I 
was speaking to. 

Ruth. But you knowed what you was speakin' 
to, Jonas Smalley. Go on. I'm kinder curous to 
hear what you've got to say about a woman o' my 
stamp. I'm kinder curous to hear wot Jonas 
Smalley's got to say about his own work. 

Mr. S. We meet in a strange way after so many 
years. 

Ruth. Yes ; we do meet in a strange way. Seems 
to me it's suthin' of a topsy-turvy way. But it's a 
topsy-turvy world, ain't it } 

Mr. S. {recovering himself with bland dignity). 
I have no desire to press hardly on any fellow-crea- 
ture — 

Ruth {quietly). Come, that's kind, anyhow. 

Mr. S. Perhaps, after all, you were not entirely 
to blame. 

Ruth. Well, p'raps not. 

Mr. S. Perhaps I myself was not altogether 
without reproach in the matter. But in my case 
allowance should, in common charity, be made for 
follies that arise from extreme youth and — and in- 
experience. I was barely forty then. 

Ruth. And I was just sixteen. Well, I forgive 
you, along o* your youth, as I hope to be forgiven 
along o* my childhood. 



CHARITY. 167 

Mr. S. irises). The tone you adopt is in the 
worst possible taste. The misguided lady who has 
taken upon herself, most wickedly, to foist you 
upon society, has committed a fraud, which — 

RiLth. Stop there, Smailey! You're getting on 
dangerous ground. Best leave that lady alone. 
She's a bit chipped off heaven — she's good right 
through. She's — she's — Fm slow at findin' 
words that mean goodness. My words run mostly 
the other way, wus luck. If I had to tell o' yoii, 
Smailey, they'd come handy and strong. I can't 
find words that mean her! 

Mr. S. I have no wish to be hard on you, but it 
is a fraud, and — 

RtUh. Fraud.? Fraud's a bad word to come 
from you, Smailey. I'd ha' thought you'd ha' fought 
shy o' that word, for the rest o' your days. 

Mr. S. {taken aback). I don't know what you 
refer to. 

Ruth. I'm referrin' to Martha Vane of Mel- 
bourne. What, yer recklect Martha Vane, do yer > 

Mr. S. Martha Vane ! Yes, I remember Vane. 
Pooh ! There is nothing to connect me with that 
matter. 

Ruth. Nothing } I've writin' of yours which is 
fourteen year, if it's a day. 

Mr. S. And do you mean to say that you would 
be guilty of such inhumanity — such devilish inhu- 
manity (I use the word " devilish " in its religious 
sense) as to bring up an act of youthful folly 



1 68 CHARITY. 

guilt if you will — against me now that I have 
achieved wealth, reputation, and social position ? 

Ruth. No, you're safe, Smailey. Bring it up 
agin yer now ? Why, you may have repented, who 
knows ? You was a bad lot, sure enough, but that's 
twenty years agone, and you may ha' repented. 

Mr. S. I have ; I'm an altered person — I — I 
— will make it well worth your while to give me 
up that writing you refer to. I will pay you very 
handsomely for it. 

Ruth. Pay ! no ; I ain't on that lay. I'm square 
now. I'm a 'spectable woman. I only takes 
money wot I earns. It comes slow, but it comes 
comfortable. 

Mr. S. Your sentiments do you credit. I con- 
fess I did not look for such delicacy of feeling in 
you ; it exalts one's idea of human nature. I am 
thankful for any thing that exalts one's idea of 
human nature. Thank you, Tredgett. Give me 
these papers. 

Ruth. No ; I'm 'spectable, but I ain't a fool. I'll 
keep 'em, case I want 'em. 

Mr. S. As you please. Remember, Tredgett, I 
am a person of influence here, and a county 
magistrate — 

Ruth. What, d'you sit at quarter sessions .? 

Mr. S. Certainly. 

Ruth. And sentence poor prigs } 

Mr. S. Yes. Why do you ask } 

Ruth. Nothing ; go on — it's all topsy-turvy ! 



CHARITY, 169 

Mr. S. I shall be happy if I can serve you in 
any way. I shall always be glad to hear that you 
are doing well, and I feel certain that the admirable 
lady who has so kindly taken you in hand will have 
no reason to regret her charity. It is easy to fall, 
and hard to rise aG:ain — Heaven bless those who 
extend a helping hand. I am very glad indeed 
that we have met. I've no wish to press hardly on 
any fellow-creature. \Exit. 

Ruth. Jonas Smailey ! Smailey here ! Things 
come about queerly. I seed him last at t'other end 
o' the world, and to meet him here ! Who's that ? 
(FiTZ Partington has entered unobserved on tip- 
toe, and tapped her on the sJiotdder}) 

Fits. Come here. (Takiitg out note-book.) Your 
name's Ruth Tredgett t 

Ruth {surprised). Ay. 

Fits. What are you 1 

Ruth. A 'spectable woman. VJot diXQ you? 

Fitz. A detective. 

Ruth {falling back horrified). Wot's it for? 

Fitz. Nothing. You ain't wanted, but your 
address is. 

Ruth. I'm living at Barker's in the village. 

Fitz. Present occupation t 

Ruth. Needlewoman. 

Fitz. Late occupation } 

Ruth. Tramp. There's nothin' agin me .? 

Fitz. Nothing against you, every thing for you ; 
even this half-crown. 



I70 CHARITY. 

Ruth. I don't like p'leece money. I never took 
none yet, I ain't a goin' to begin now. I wish yer 
good day. I don't like p'leece money. \Exit, 

Fitz. I'm not a policeman, I'm a private detec- 
tive ; but we won't split hairs. (Pockets coin.) I 
thought Smailey was my man, now I'm sure of it. 
Ha ! ha ! Now, Smailey has a game. The ques- 
tion is, what is it.-* He says it's his scutcheon, but 
that is Walker, because his father was a wig-maker. 
However, it's quite clear that, whatever his game 
may be, it is my duty to put that inestimable 
woman on her guard. 

Enter Mrs. Van Brugh. 

Mrs. V. B. Has not Mr. Smailey returned } 

Fitz. No, ma'am, he has not. {He shows traces 
of emotion^ 

Mrs. V. B. Mr. Fitz Partington, is any thing the 
matter } 

Fitz. Ma'am, you have come upon me in a 
moment of professional conscientiousness. Avail 
yourself of it, for such moments are rare and 
fleeting. Beware of Smailey. 

Mrs. V. B. What in the world do you mean } 

Fitz. I mean that he is endeavoring to prove 
that — that you were not legally married to Captain 
Van Brugh. 

Mrs. V. B. {intensely agitated). Mr. Fitz Par- 
tington, you can not be aware of the full import of 
your words. What can be Mr. Smailey's motive 
for making these preposterous inquiries 1 



CHARITY. 171 

Fitz. That's just what I want to get at. In a 
general way it's sure to be something dirty. 'Per- 
haps he thinks that the property you inherit from 
Captain Van Brugh isn't legally yours, and, 
therefore, can't be settled by you on your daughter. 

Mrs. KB. But I inherited very Httle indeed 
from Captain Van Brugh. The bulk of my 
property was left me by my godfather. 

Fitz. Then I'm wrong. But does Smailey know 
this .? 

Mrs. V. B. Know it! Why, of course he knows 
it. He's my godfather's nephew, and next-of-kin. 

Fitz. What ! His next-of-kin .? Next-of-kin is a 
fruitful expression. I see a whole plantation of 
motives cropping out of "next-of-kin." Have you 
a copy of the will } 

Mrs. V.B. No. But Mr. Smailey has — indeed 
he has gone to fetch it. 

Fits. Can you tell me the terms of the legacy } 

Mrs. V. B. No, not precisely. I have'' never ' 
seen the will. My solicitor has told me its purport 
in general terms. 

Fitz. Are you referred to in that will by your 
married or maiden name } 

Mrs. V. B. Oh, by my maiden name. 

Fitz. You are sure of that t 

Mrs. V. B. Quite sure. At least, I feel quite 
sure. I can't be absolutely certain, but — oh, yes ; 
I am sure of it. 

Fitz. What was the date of the will .? 



172 CHARITY. 

Mrs. V.B. 1856. 

Fitz. What was the year of your marriage ? 

Mrs. V. B. {after a pates e). 1856. 

Fitz. My dear Mrs. Van Brugh, this is most 
important. The news of your marriage might or 
misfht not have reached the testator in Australia. 
If there is any flaw in your marriage, and if you 
are described in that will as Captain Van Brugh' s 
wife, every penny you possess will revert to 
Smailey. Now, Smailey is a scoundrel. 

Mrs. V. B. Mr. Fitz Partington, pray explain 
yourself. 

Fitz. In the full conviction that what I am going 
to say will be treated as confidential, I will explain 
myself. I'm after Smailey. Smailey will soon be 
wanted. 

Mrs. V. B. This is scarcely an explanation. 

Fitz. Scarcely an explanation. Twenty years 
^ago, when in Australia, Smailey forged a burial- 
certificate to get some trust-funds into his posses- 
sion. The job was given to our house to investi- 
gate, only six weeks ago. Two days after, who 
should come to us for a detective to inquire into 
your affairs but Smailey, so we put the two jobs 
together, and I'm doing 'em both. 
. Mrs. V. B. But how is it that a gentleman in 
your profession — 

Fitz. A gentleman ! Mrs. Van Brugh, for rea- 
sons that will .go down with me to the tomb, I am 
humbly and hopelessly anxious to stand high in 



CHARITY. 173 

your good opinion. Appreciate my disinterested- 
ness, when I voluntarily tell you that which will 
blight me in your estimation for ever. You think 
I'm an eminent solicitor. I ain't ; I'm the 
insignificant minion of a Private Inquiry Office. 

Mrs. V. B. But you were introduced to me as a 
solicitor. 

Fitz, It is a tantalizing feature of my contempti- 
ble calling, that I am continually being introduced 
as somebody I should particularly like to be. In 
the course of the last twelve months, I've been 
a Spanish Hidalgo, a Colonel of Hussars, an 
Ashantee Nobleman, and a Bishop of the Greek 
Church. What was the date of your marriage .? 

Mrs. V. B. Some time in February, '56 {with 
hesitatiofi). 

Fitz. Day.? 

Mrs. V. B. The — the 30th. 

Fitz. The 30th .? Try again. Never more than 
twenty-nine days in February — seldom that. 

Mj^s. V. B. \ forget the exact date. 

Fitz. Where were you married, and by whom } 

Mrs. V. B. By — by {after some hesitation) — Sir, 
by your own admission you are a mere spy. How 
am I to know that you are not asking these 
questions with a view to using them against me } 

Fitz. {rmtch hurt). Ma'am, may you never know 
the depth of the wound you have inflicted. It will 
canker, ma'am, but don't be alarmed, it shall not 
inconvenience you, for I will remove it from your 



174 CHARITY. 

sight. When we meet again, you will find me in 
the assumed character of a person who has not had 
his best feelings harrowed up for a considerable 
time. It will be a difficult assumption, ma'am, but 
I will do my best to sustain the fiction. \Exit. 

Mrs. V. B. At last ! at last my punishment is at 
hand. And Eve — great heavens, what will be- 
come of her? Eve — who loves and honors me — 
Eve, my child ! I mustn't think of that. It will 
madden me. I shall want all my head for what is 
to come ! If news of this — marriage of mine 
{with a bitter latigh) had reached my godfather, he 
would have described me in his will as Captain 
Van Brugh's wife, and then I am lost, and Eve is 
lost. Oh, why don't that man come. This sus- 
pense is terrible. At last ! He's here ! 

Enter Eve and Fred with Dr. Athelney. 

Eve. Mr. Smailey has returned with the will. 
Frederick has been explaining to me the difference 
between freehold and leasehold, and you don't 
know how anxious I am to know which it is. 

Fred. Eve, Eve, this is very mercenary. 

E7iter Smailey. 

J/r. 5. Mrs. Van Brugh, I am most happy to tell 
you that it is every thing that could be wished. My 
dear Mrs. Van Brugh, the Buckinghamshire farm is 
freehold. Here is the clause which refers to it : 
{Reads very deliberately) After giving you West- 



CHARITY. 175 

land Park, the Blackfriars estate, and the two 
reversions, the testator goes on to say, " And I fur- 
" ther will and bequeathe all that messuage known 
" as Goldacre Farm, together with all out-houses, 
" ways, watercourses, trees, commonable rights, 
" easements and appurtenances, and all the estate 
" and rights of the said Richard Goldacre in and to 
" the same, unto and to the use of the said Catherine 
" Ellen, wife of Richard Van Brugh, Esq., a cap- 
" tain in the Royal Navy, her heirs and assigns 
" forever." 

(Mrs. Van Brugh falls senseless into a chair, 
her daughter bending over her.) 



ACT III. 

Scene : Morning room in Smailey's house. Door 
at back, giving on to a pretty garden. 

Frederick discovered sealing a letter. 

Fred. " Your eternally attached Frederick." If 
there was any flaw in Mrs. Van Brugh's marriage, 
as my father seems to suspect — and his suspicions 
are corroborated by her astonishing behavior on 
his reading her godfather s will — then Mrs. Van 
Brugh is penniless — and Eve is penniless too. 
Poor little lady. I'm afraid I shall have to cry off. 
I'm sorry for the poor child, because I'm sure she 
is fond of me. I'm sorry for myself, because I'm 



176 CHARITY. 

sure I'm fond of her. But when a man proposes 
to marry, he must not allow himself to be misled by 
his affections. As far as Eve is concerned I see 
no difficulty. She is a tender-hearted and sensi- 
tive little thing, heaven bless her, and can be easily 
shaken off. But my poor old father; how indig- 
nant he will be if I dare to suggest what he would 
consider a dishonorable course ! Why, if he 
thought me capable of breaking a solemn engage- 
ment for a mercenary motive, he'd disown me ! 
No, I must rest my excuse on a surer ground. I 
must touch his sense of family pride. I must re- 
mind him of the blight that would fall on our race, 
if I intermarried with a tainted family. A really 
good man does a deal of harm in the world. One 
has to stoop to so much dirty dissimulation before 
one can meet him on equal terms. 

Enter Mr. Smailey. 

Mr. S. \ Frederick, I want to speak seriously — 

Fred. S Father, I want to speak seriously 

Mr. S. Eh .? 

Fred. I beg your pardon. 

Mr. S. I was about to say that I want to speak 
to you on a most serious and important matter. 

Fred. Dear me, that's very odd ! Do you know 
I was about to say the very same thing ! I am 
most anxious to speak to yott, on a most serious 
and most important matter. Excuse me for one 
moment, while I give this note to Robins. 



CHARITY. 177 

Mr. S. Whom are you writing to ? 
Fred. To my darling, of course ? [ExiL 

Mr. S. To his darling ! Poor lad ! He's a noble 
fellow ! No mercenary thought in connection with 
the girl has ever entered his head ! But he must 
never marry her. Every thing points to the fact 
that Mrs. Van Brugh's marriage was illegal, and, 
if so, her daughter is portionless. Thank Heaven ! 
his sense of moral rectitude is so high that when 
he knows that her mother's conduct is open to 
suspicion he may feel bound to dissociate himself 
from her. Ah, it is a pleasant and a goodly thing 
when a parent finds that the strict principles he 
has instilled into his offspring are bearing golden 
fruit on which they both may feed ! 

Enter Frederick. 

Mr. S. {aside). ) How shall I break it to him ? 

Fred, {aside). S How shall I begin .-* 

Fred. Now I'm at your disposal. 

Mr. S. Frederick, my dear lad, this life of ours is 
made up of hopes frustrated, and cherished schemes 
brought to nothing. 

Fred. Very true. A man who places himself 
under the sweet dominion of his conscience, must 
not count on the fulfillment of even his most inno- 
cent intentions. 

Mr. S. Unforeseen circumstances occasionally 
arise that render it almost criminal to carry out an 
otherwise laudable purpose. 



178 CHARITY. 

Fred. For instance : a discovery that a contem- 
plated act would, if carried out, bring dishonor on 
a long line of ancestors. 

Mr. S. Or give an implied sanction to a discred- 
itable, if not an immoral, relationship. Events 
might occur which would justify him in breaking 
the most solemn pledge. 

Fred. Justify him ! I can conceive a state of 
things under which he would be morally bound to 
cast his most sacred obligations to the wind. 

Mr. S. My dear boy ! 

Fred. My dear father ! {They sJiake hands') 

Mr. 5. Now Fred, this is what I was coming to, 
my boy. We are the last descendants of a very 
noble family. 

Fred. So I have often heard you say. And that 
reminds me to mention a matter, upon which I 
have long desired to talk to you 

Mr. S. {iiiternipting). I am free to admit that I 
am proud of my ancestry. 

Fred. My dear father, the safe-keeping of their 
honor is my dearest aim. And, talking of my 
ancestors' honor, reminds me 

Mr. S. {iiiternipting). If Caius Smaileius heard 
that one of his race was about to marry, for 
instance, into a tainted family, I believe the 
doughty old Roman would turn in his tumulus ! 

Fred. What you say about a tainted family is so 
true, that I venture 

Mr. S. My dear Fred, it's no use beating about 



CHARITY. 179 

the bush. The girl you are engaged to — as good 
a girl as ever lived, is (there is no use in disguising 
it) a member of a tainted family. (Fred timis 
from Smailey.) It is therefore my duty to urge 
upon you, as the last of our line, the propriety, the 
necessity, of releasing Eve from her engagement. 
(Frederick appears hurt and indignant}) I know 
I am asking much, very much, of you. I know 
how tenderly you love the girl ; but a flaw, my dear 
Fred, and you a Smailey ! My boy, it is impossi- 
ble. 

Fred, {in affected indignatioii). Am I to under- 
stand that you require me to surrender my darling 
Eve. Never ! With all possible respect for your 
authority — Never ! 

Mr. S. But, Fred, remember, my boy, remember, 
her mother has committed 2i faux pas of some kind. 

Fred. It would certainly seem so ; but I have 
given my word, and it is my duty to keep it. 

Mr. S. What is duty to the living compared with 
duty to the dead. Think what your ancestors have 
done for you. And are we to neglect our duty to 
them, because they can do no more for us ? Oh ! 
shame, shame ! 

Fred, {ivith apparent relnctaitce). There is much 
truth in what you say, still 

Mr. S. To marry into such a famil}^ as hers, now 
that we know the truth, would be, as it were, to 
countenance her guilt. 

Fj'ed. I can not deny it. Nevertheless, I 



i5o 



CHARITY. 



Mr. S. Would it be just — would it be moral to 
do this ? 

Fred. No, no ; I see it now. 

Mr. S. Show yourself to be a man of moral cour- 
age. As for what the world will say, do the right 
thing, my boy, and let them say what they please. 

Fred, {after a pause). Father, you are right. As 
a moral man I have no alternative but to comply 
with your wish. At any cost it must be done — 
at any cost it shall be done ! 

Mr. S. That's right, my dear, dear boy ; and you 
shall find that you have lost little by your determi- 
nation. And now that that's settled, let us enter 
mto your affairs. What was it that you wanted to 
speak to me so seriously about just now? 

Fred. I } Oh, dear no. 

Mr. S. But surely, you said 

Fred. Oh, to be sure ! I — oh, it's not of the 
least consequence. 

Mr. S. Something about poor little Eve, wasn't it } 

Fred. Yes ; about poor little Eve. How little do 
we know what five minutes may bring forth ! I was 
actually going to consult you about fixing a day for 
our wedding, ( Wiping his eyes) 

Mr. S. My poor boy, you have behaved nobly. 
You are a true Smailey. 

Fred, {taking his hand). I hope it is not presump- 
tuous in me, but I sometimes think I am. 

Mr. S. I have wounded you deeply. Let mc 
compensate you by telling you a more pleasant 



CHARITY. i8i 

piece of news. I have discovered Fitz Parting- 
ton's clew. 

Fred. Indeed ! I am rejoiced to hear it. 

Mr. S. Yes. Mrs. Van Brugh told me on Tues- 
day that she had never actually seen her godfather's 
will. So I felt it to be my duty to make an excuse 
for reading aloud that part of the will in which she 
is particularly described. I did so, and she fainted. 
Now, my dear Fred, what does this point to } 

Fred. I should say bigamy. 

Mr. S, You would say bigamy, and so should I. 
I suggested this to Fitz Partington, and he seemed 
amazed at my penetration. We laid our heads to- 
gether, and, at his suggestion, I drew up this adver- 
tisement. {Hands MS. advertisement, ivhich he has 
taken from table-drawer.) 

Fred, {reads). £^o Reward. This snm will be 
paid for a trne copy of the burial certificate of the 
first wife of the late Captain Van Brngh, R.N. 
She is known to have died at Melbourne within the 
last eight years. Are you sure Fitz Partington is 
acting straightforwardly with you } 

Mr. S. Why should he do otherwise } 

Fred. £,^Q is a large sum. 

Mr. S. A large sum ? If I can only establish the 

fact that the first Mrs. Van Brugh died within the 

last eight years, every penny of this so-called Mrs. 

Van Brugh's income — £8,000 a year at least — 

reverts to me. 

Fred. Then, dear me 

16 



i82 CHARITY. 

Mr. S. Eh ? 

Fred. Poor Eve will lose her settlement ! 
Mr. S. True ; quite true. Dear me, I never 
thought of that. Poor Eve ! 
Fred. Poor, poor Eve ! 

Ejiter Ruth. 

Rttth. I've brought this note from my lady. 

Mr. S. Oh ! There may be an answer. Stay. 

RtLth. {quietly). Yes ; I'll stay. 

Mr. S. \7'eads note). Oh! Mrs. Van Brugh writes 
to say that she wishes to see me this afternoon — 
alone. {Sits down to zurite.) 

Fred. Alone! Oh, then — then perhaps I'd bet- 
ter withdraw. ( With affected emotion^ 

Ruth. Ay, perhaps you better had. 

{Site follows him with her eyes as he goes to the 
door. He seems 7ineasy. Then exit. ) 

Mr. S. There is the answer. {FinisJiing note.) 

Ruth. Smailey ; wot's wrong about my lady } 

Mr. S. Wrong.? 

Ruth. Ay, there's ruin comin* to her, and she 
knows it. She's been queer-like these two days. 
I've come upon her cryin' odd times, and she's as 
white as death. Wot is it, Smailey "^ 

Mr. S. Probably a head-ache. I'm not a doctor. 

Riith. lam. It's no head-ache — it's heart-ache. 
It's ruin. 

Mr. S. It is ruin ; to her wealth, and her good 
name. 



CHARITY. 183 

Ruth. Her good name ? Why, you re never goin* 
to meddle wi' that. 

Mr. S. You are deceived in your mistress. {Rises.) 

I will tell you what she has been 

Riith. Stop! I won't hear it, Smailey, I won't 
hear it. Let bygones go by : no odds what she has 
been ; think wot she is ; think wot yoicve been. 
As I've dealt fair wi' you, deal you fair wi' her. Take 
wot's yourn, but don't take no more. 

Mr. S. My rights and her good name are bound 
up together, I can not claim the one without destroy- 
ing the other. I only want what the law will give 
me, if I commence proceedings. 

RiLth {changing her tone). If you commence pro- 
ceedings, wot the law will give you is fourteen 
year, take my word for it. I've spoke fair, and no 
good's come of it, so I'll speak foul. Look here, 
Smailey, you've put a plot afoot to ruin my lady. 
Now my lady's got a dog, Smailey, and that dog 
won't stand no plots. Do you hear that, Smailey. 
Stir hand or foot to harm that pure and spotless 
creature, and sure as my lady's dog has a set of 
fangs she'll fix them in your throat. 

Mr. S. This is hard. This is very hard. Even 
Mrs. Van Brugh would herself at once admit the 
justice of my claim. 

RiUh. Well, wait till she does. 

Mr. S. {after a pause). There is a good deal of 
sound common sense in what you say, Tredgett. 
Still, if — if Mrs. Van Brugh should at any time 



i84 CHARITY. 

make a statement of her own free will, you will 
surely allow me to profit by it ? 

RiUh. Wotever my lady does of her own free 
will is angels' doin', and is right accordin'. 

Mr, S. {aside). Then I think I see my way. 
{Aloud) Well, Ruth, on that understanding you 
have my promise. 

Ruth. Promise ? Your promise ? Smailey, don't 
you meddle with things you don't understand. 
Promises are ticklish goods in yotir hands. They're 
temptin' things to break, and you was always easy 
tempted. No, no ; don't you promise. 77/ prom- 
ise this time, Smailey. 77/ promise. \_Exit Ruth. 

3Ir. S. A sin, an early sin — a sin committed 
twenty years ago, brought up against me now that 
I am an honest man, and a regular church-goer ! 
I am absolutely bound hand and foot by it -^- and 
to what end .'* For the protection of a woman who 
has committed Heaven knows what offense against 
morality. If this crime were to be proved against 
me, what on earth would become of me.-* For 
years I have endeavored to atone for my sin 
against society by treating wrong-doers brought 
before me with the strictest and most, unflinching 
severity. Would Society be grateful for this — 
Would it even take heed of it 1 No ; my atone- 
ment would go for nothing — absolutely nothing. 
Ah ! this is a merciless world, and one in which 
penitence is taken no account of. But have a care, 
Mrs. Van Brugh, Fll bide my time. You shall yet 



CHARITY. 185 

see that a sin against morality is not to be wiped 
out by a few years of sentimental self-denial ! 

Enter Eve and Fred, 

Fred. Father, I met Mrs. Van Brugh and my 
darling on their way here, so I turned back with 
them. 

Mr. S. My dear Eve. {Kisses her. Enter Mrs. 
Van Brugh.) Mrs. Van Brugh, I am very pleased 
to see you. Pray sit down. You look pale ; I am 
afraid you are tired. 

Mrs. V. B. No, I have not been very well lately. 

Eve. Mamma wished to come alone, as she wants 
to speak to you on business, but I wouldn't hear 
of that, as she is really very far from well, so I've 
brought her to you, Mr. Smailey ; and now I'm 
going .to take a turn in the garden with Fred. Dr. 
Athelney is waiting for us in the arbor. 

Fred. If the arbor were a consecrated arbor, 
and I had a license in my pocket, we might take a 
turn — in the garden — that would surprise our 
dear friends. 

Eve. What, without a wedding-dress and brides- 
maids, and bouquets and presents, and a breakfast .? 
My dear Fred, it wouldn't be legal ! 

[Exezmt Eve and Fred t?zto the garden. 

Mrs. V. B. {after a pause). Mr. Smailey, I come 
to you in great distress. On Tuesday last, a cir- 
cumstance occurred, no matter what it was, that 

induced me to believe that there was a fl^w a 

16* 



i86 CHARITY. 

vital flaw — in my title to all I possess. Mr. Smai- 
ley, I haven't a shilling in the world. 

Mr. S. A shilling! My very dear lady, you 
haven't a penny; 

Mrs. V. B. What ! Do you know this .? 

Mr. S. Mrs. Van Brugh, I will be candid with 
you. The Smaileys are a very, very old and very 
famous family. No suspicion of a bar sinister has 
ever shadowed their escutcheon. My son is be- 
trothed to your daughter, and I have reason to 
believe that you are not entitled to the name you 
bear. Therefore, in his interests, and in those of 
his slumbering ancestors, I have taken steps to 
ascertain the truth. 

Mrs. V. B. {imich agitated). What do you hope 
to prove t 

Mr. S. That when you went through the form 
of marriage with the late Captain Van Brugh you 
knew that his first wife was still alive. 

Mi's. V. B. {wildly). No, no, no ! Mr. Smailey, 
it is bad enough, but not so bad as that. Oh, Mr. 
Smailey, dismiss that fearful thought from your 
mind, and I will tell you the truth I came here to 
tell. It's a bitter, bitter truth, but not so bad as 
you would make it out to be. 

AIi\ S. What is the truth .? {Sternly.) 

Mrs. V. B. I — I — when I met Captain Van 
Brugh — I was very young, and my mother was 
dead — and — 

{Bursts into tears and sobs wildly, layifig her 
head on the table?} 



CHARITY, 187 

Mr. S. What is the truth ? 

Mrs. V. B. Oh, man, man, can't you read it in 
these tears ? Is there not shame enough in my 
face, that you want it in shameful words. Read 
what you see before you, and as you are a man 
with a heart, keep my secret ; oh, keep my un- 
happy secret ! 

Mr. S. What ! am I to understand that you 
never even went through the form of marriage 
with Captain Van Brugh ? 

Mrs. V. B. {jiiider her breatJi). Never ! 

Mr. S. {after a pause). I decline to believe you. 
I had hoped that it was barely possible you were 
the unconscious dupe of a reckless scamp. I now 
believe that you were well aware of the crime you 
were committing, and you take this step to avoid 
its legal consequences. 

Mrs. V. B. {with forced calmness). Mr. Smailey, 
I have, perhaps, no right to be indignant at this 
insult ; but you are mistaken — utterly mistaken. 
Have you no pity, no sympathy } See, every thing 
I possess is legally yours; I leave your presence 
penniless. Commence an action against me, and I 
will quietly yield up every thing before the case 
comes into court ; but, if you love your son, spare 
me the shame, the intolerable shame, of a public 
exposure ! 

Mr. S. I will spare you nothing ; neither will I 
take the step you suggest, nor any other step to 
dispossess you. In this matter I am passive; I 



i88 CHARITY. 

leave you to act as conscience may prompt you. 
But understand that I will be a party to no con- 
cealment, no subterfuge. On these terms, and on 
no other, will I consent to take this property. 

Mrs. V. B. {wildly). What am I to do ? I can 
not keep it, and I have no one to advise me ! 

Mr. S. /will advise you. You have sinned, and 
must make atonement. There are witnesses at 
hand, let them hear the truth : whatever the truth 
may be, let them hear it. 

Mrs. V. B. What witnesses } 

Mr. S. Dr. Athelney, my dear son, Ruth Tred- 
gett, and your daughter. 

Mrs. V. B. {wildly). No, no ; not before Eve. 
You can not mean that I am to say this before Eve. 
Think, Mr. Smailey, what you are asking me to do. 
I am her mother ! 

Mr. S. I desire to press hardly on no fellow- 
creature, but it is meet that she should know the 
truth. Indeed, as a principle, truth can not be too 
widely known. 

Mrs. V. B. But she knows nothing of this mis- 
erable matter. She believes, as others believe, that 
I was married abroad and that my husband died 
soon after. 

Mr. S. A mother seeking to deceive her own 
child ! 

Mrs. V. B. Take every penny I possess, but for 
Eve's sake spare me this intolerable shame. I will 
sign any deed you please that will convey my prop- 



CHARITY. 189 

erty to you, but leave me the love and honor of 
my darling child. 

Mr. S. I decline to place myself in the invid- 
ious position of one who takes steps to dispossess 
a helpless lady ; I also decline to be a party to any 
deception. If you refuse to make the public ad- 
mission I require, you may keep your ill-gotten 
wealth. 

Mrs. V, B. Keep it ! Why I am here, of my 
own free will, to surrender into your hands my 
wealth, and with it my good name ! 

Mr. S. I feel it to be my duty to remind you 
that you have as little right to the one as to the 
other. 

Mrs. V. B. What shall I do— What shall I do.? 
If I refuse to publish my sin, this man will make 
it known to the whole world. 

Mr. S. No ; there you wrong me. That would 
be an unmanly act indeed, Miss Brandreth. 

Mrs. V. B. Miss Brandreth ! 

Mr. S. That, I presume, is your name. Pardon 
me, but now that I know the truth, I could not 
conscientiously call you Mrs. Van Brugh. It 
would be a lie. For the future I shall call you 
Miss Brandreth, but — I shall systematically with- 
hold my reasons for so doing. 

Mrs. V. B. Mr. Smailey, think what you are com- 
peUing me to do. I have sinned, and for many 
years I have unceasingly endeavored to atone for 
that sin. Blessed with an ample fortune, I have 



I90 CHARITY, 

devoted four-fifths of it to the rescue of the un- 
happiest among unhappy women. In my search 
for them I have waded, year after year, through the 
foulest depths of misery and disgrace, with ears 
and eyes outraged at every turn. In the face of 
gaUing rebuke and insult unspeakable, in the face 
of cold ridicule and insolent misconstruction, I have 
held on to the task I set myself, and through the 
mercy of heaven — the infinite mercy of heaven — 
I have succeeded. I have no desire to speak of 
these things, and to no other man would I utter 
them. But you talk to me of atonement ; and have 
I not atoned } Oh ! have I not atoned } 

Mr. S. See how the deeds and words of these 
last years show in the fierce light you have just 
thrown upon them. You have lost no opportunity 
of rebuking my hardness of heart because I can not 
pardon an act of immorality. See from what a 
foul and muddy source your own forgiveness springs. 
You have taunted me with my severity towards 
wrong-doers. See from what an interested motive 
your own leniency arises. You have publicly 
assailed my want of charity. Had I the control of 
another man's income my charities might perhaps 
outvie your own. In one word, if you retain your 
social position, you are morally an impostor. If 
you retain my property, you are morally 

Mrs. V. B. {interntpting him). Enough ! You 
have spoken, and I know you now. I can see through 
those cold hard eyes down into the cold hard heart 



CHARITY. 191 

from which they take their tone. I read there the 
stony creed, *^ A woman who has once fallen shall 
never rise again." So let it be. You are strong — 
for you have the world on your side. I am weak 
— for I am alone. If I am to die this moral death, 
it shall be by my own hand. They shall hear the 
truth. (Eve and Frederick have appeared at the 
door ; she turns and sees them ; they are followed by 
Dr. Athelney and Edward.) Come here, Eve ; 
come here, Dr. Athelney ; all of you come here. 
(Eve comes forward and kneels at her mother s feet) 
Eve, my darling, my pet — Eve dear, kiss me. 
Kiss me again and again — my child, my child ! 
Kiss me now, for you may never kiss me again. 
Dr. Athelney, you love me, I know. Edward, my 
dear old friend, listen while I tell you what manner 
of woman you have loved 

Ruth {rushing forward). No, no, mistress, you 
mustn't say it, don't, don't speak it ; for the love of 
mercy don't speak it. As I'm a sinful woman, it'll 
be worse than death to me. 

Mrs. V. B. \ must go on to the end. Do you 
know on what kind of thing you have lavished the 
treasure of your love } You have lavished it on a 
fallen woman — an unhappy creature, who has com- 
mitted that one sin for which on earth there is no 
atonement — no forgiveness. You think of me as 
Captain Brugh's widow ; God forgive me, I never 
was his wife ! 



192 CHARITY. 

('Ruth 7'e coils from her with an exclamation of 
horror, ^yy. falls senseless into Edward's 
arms. Smailey and Frederick watch the 
group from a corner of the stage.) 



ACT IV. 

Scene : Library at Dr. Athelney's.' 

Mrs. Van Brugh discovered seated, reading letters, 

Mrs. V. B. " The Rev. Mr. Twemlow presents 
his comphments to Mrs. Van Brugh, and begs to 
return her annual subscription of fifty guineas to the 
Fund for providing Shelter for the Homeless Poor. 
He does not feel justified, under the circumstances, 
in accepting any aid from Mrs. Van Brugh on their 
behalf. With respect to the living to which Mrs. 
Van Brugh has recently presented Mr. Twemlow, he 
desires that she may understand that, if he consents 
to retain it, it is because he feels that it affords him 
a more extended sphere of spiritual usefulness than 
the curacy he has hitherto held." {Opens another 
letter}} " We, the aged occupants of the Locroft 
Almshouses, are humbly pained and respectfully 
shocked at the disclosures that have recently been 
made with reference to Miss Brandreth's relations 
with the late Captain Van Brugh. We trust that 
it is unnecessary for us to add that, if it were not 
that the Almshouses pass at once from Miss Bran- 



CHARITY. 193 

dreth's hands into those of an upright and stainless 
Christian, whom it is an honor respectfully to know 
and a satisfaction humbly to profit by, we would 
not have consented to occupy them for another 
day ; we would rather have worked for our living. 
Signed." {Opens another letter.) 

"Honored Madam, 

" We shall feel greatly flattered and obliged if 
you will kindly afford us a sitting for your photo- 
graph at your earliest convenience. 
" We are, Honored Madam, 
"With much esteem, 

" Most respectfully yours, 

" SCUMLEY & RiPP." 

When these people address me, I am degraded 
indeed ! My name a word of reproach in every 
household in the country ; my story a thing to be 
whispered and hinted at, but not to be openly dis- 
cussed, by reason of its very shame. My years of 
atonement held to be mere evidences of skillfully 
sustained hypocrisy. Myself a confessed counter- 
feit, a base and worthless imposition, a living fraud 
on the immaculate beings with whom I dared to 
surround myself. And Ruth — Ruth, to whom my 
heart ojDcned — even Ruth has left me. Poor blind, 
wayward woman, you are of the world, worldly ; 
your idol is shattered, and there is the end. So let 
it be ; it is meet that such as I should be alone ! 

»7 



194 CHARITY, 

Better Eve, who has overheai'd the last few 
lines. She approaches her mother qtiieify, 
and places her arms 7'ound her neck. 

Eve. Mamma, you have many kind friends left 
to you ; Dr. Athelney, who has given you a home ; 
Edward and myself. 

Mrs. V. B. A daughter's love comes of honor. 
Can that love live without the honor that gives it 
sustenance .'* 

Eve. Mamma, I am very young, and I know little 
of the world and its ways. Will you forgive me if 
I speak foolishly 1 Dear mamma, I think my love 
for you began with my life. It was born with me, 
and came of no other cause than that you are my 
mother. As I brought it with me into the world, 
so I believe I shall take it with me out of the 
world. Do you understand me } I mean, that if I 
had no other reason for loving than that you are 
my mother, I should still love you, for I am 3^our 
child. 

Mrs. V. B. A child to whom I have given a life 
that is worse than death ; a life that brings with it 
a curse that will be flung in your teeth by all who 
know you, and first of all, and above all, by him 
who was to have married you. 

Eve. No, no ; your bitter sorrow has made you 
unjust. Remember, he loves me. I do not know 
why he loves me, but whatever he saw in me to 
love is there still. / am not changed, and why 
should he change } I trust his heart as I trust my 
own. 



CHARITY. 195 

M7's. V. B. Eve, I know the world too well. 
That man will visit my fault upon you. He will 
renounce you now, my poor child, and the world 
will say he is right. 

Eve. I will believe this when^ I hear it from his 
own lips. 

Mrs. V. B. You will hear it to-day. It is part 
of the punishment of women who sin as I have 
sinned, that those who are dearest to them shall 
suffer with them. See how I am punished. I 
have placed a mark of shame on you whom I 
love beyond all on earth. I have inflicted a lasting 
injury on you whom I would have died to serve. I 
have cursed you whom I would have blessed. I have 
degraded you whom I would have exalted. Eve, my 
darling — out of my sin has come your love for me. 
I have no claim to that love. I have cheated you 
into honoring me ; for that honor comes of my sin. 
I do not ask for love — I do not ask for honor. 
Humbled, unworthy, and spirit-broken, I plead to 
you for pardon — only for pardon. {Kneels to Eve) 

Eve. Pardon! My mother — my gentle-hearted 
mother. There is no thought in my mind but of 
the perfect woman of the past eighteen years. The 
luster of those years fills my world. I can see 
nothing else ; I will see nothing else. As you have 
always been to me, so shall you always be — the 
type of gentle charity, tender helpfulness, brave, 
large-hearted womanly sympathy. When the bright 
light of those bygone years pales in my eyes, then 



196 CHARITY. 

let me suffer ten times the sorrow of to-day, for 
indeed I shall have deserved it. {She rises and they 
embrace)) 

Enter Fitz Partington cautiously, l. 

Mrs. V. B. Mr. Fitz Partington ? 

Fitz. Yes, but don't be alarmed. If it is open 
to a person in my debased position to be regarded 
as a friend, regard me as one. 

Mrs. V. B. Mr. Fitz Partington, I did you an 
injustice when I saw you last — I doubted you. 
Will you forgive me } {Holding out her hand) 

Fitz {much affected, takes it). Ma'am, this is the 
most unprofessional moment of my career. No 
one ever apologized to me before. It is very un- 
manning. It is like having a tooth out. I hope 
no one will ever apologize to me again. 

Eve. Have you brought us any news, Mr. Fitz 
Partington } I am sure you are here for some kind 
purpose. 

Fitz. It is my fate to appear continually before 
you in the character of the Mysterious Warner of 
penny romance. Mrs. Van Brugh, once more, 
beware of Smailey. That abject man is going at 
you again. 

Mrs. V. B. Has he not done with me yet } Can 
I be poorer than I am — or more unhappy — or 
more despised } 

Fitz. He proposes to make you so, but he vvill 
be sold. 



CHARITY, 197 

Eve. But with what motive does he do this ? 

Fitz. Revenge. To adapt the words of the 
poet to Smailey's frame of mind, " Revenge is 
sweet, especially on women." 

Mrs. V. B, Revenge on me! Through him, 
whom I have never injured, I have lost my home, 
my fortune, and my good name, and he seeks 
revenge on me? 

Fits. Mrs. Van Brugh, if it is a source of pain 
to you to know that your friends have cut you, it 
may console you to know, that in their strict im- 
partiality they have also cut him. He is hooted in 
the streets. His windows are a public cockshy. 
Nobody is at home to him, and though he is at 
home to everybody, it is to no purpose. The very 
tradesmen refuse to supply him. He is a desolate, 
and a hungry being, and nobody calls on him ex- 
cept the taxes. 

Eve. I fear, Mr. Fitz Partington, that you may 
yourself have suffered from your association with 
this man. 

Fitz {to Eve). I .? I believe you ! Why I go 
about in fear of my life. Not only am I deprived 
of the necessaries of existence, but I have become 
the very focus of public execration. I couldn't be 
more unpopular if I had come down to stand for 
the borough. 

Eve. But, Mr. Fitz Partington, how in heaven's 
name does he propose to injure my mother } 
What can he do to her, that he has not already 
done } 17* 



198 CHARITY, 

Fitz. He is advertising for the present Mrs. Van 
Brugh's marriage certificate, and the late Mrs. Van 
Brugh's burial certificate, with a view to a prosecu- 
tion for bigamy. 

Eve. Mamma, mamma, do you hear this .'* 
{Ci'osses to her.) 

Mrs. V. B. Yes, I hear it. I knew that he had 
conceived this monstrous idea, but I have already 
assured him there is no ground for his suspicion. 
I have told him {after a pause, and with much 
shame) the truth. 

Fitz. Yes, but he don't believe you. Read that. 
{Hands nezuspaper to Eve, who gives it to Mrs. Van 
Brugh, pointing out adve7^tise7nejtt.) Such is the 
snake-like and foxy character of that unparalleled 
old Pharisee, that he don't believe you. Why, I am 
a professional skeptic at two guineas a day, and 
even I believe you. 

Mrs. V. B. {who has been reading the advertise- 
meiit). This is most shameful. This is monstrous 
beyond expression. I have borne my terrible pun- 
ishment to this point patiently, and without undue 
murmur, but I will bear no more. Let that man 
know this. He has roused me at last, and I will 
meet him face to face. Let him know that, help- 
less and friendless as he believes me to be ; crushed 
as I am under the weight of the fearful revelation 
he has extorted from me ; shunned as I am, and 
despised even by those whom all despise but I, I 
am yet strong in this, that I have nothing more to 



CHARITY. 199 

lose. He has made me desperate, and let him 
beware. There are men in these days as hot in 
the defense of an insulted woman as in the days 
gone by, and he shall have a legion of them about 
his ears. I have been punished enough. I will 
be punished no further. 

Eve. But who could have put this monstrous 
scheme into his head } What demon could have 
suggested it to him } 

Fitz. I suggested it to him, but I ain't a demon. 

Eve and Mrs. V. B. You ! 

Fits. I — I drew up the advertisement, put it in, 
and paid for it. It's a dodge, I've put him on a 
wrong scent. 

Mrs. V. B. How am I to understand this ? 

Fitz. That's just it; you are not to understand 
— at present. You are to do me justice to believe 
that, when you do understand it, you will like it 
very much. I've put him on a wrong scent, and if 
I'm not very much mistaken, it will have the effect 
of taking him in his own toils. For the present it 
is enough to tell you that his advertisement has 
been answered, and that the person who answered 
it is to meet him here this afternoon. 

Mrs. V. B. Here .'* Why does he come to me ? 

Fitz. Because he conceives, with some reason, 
that you are not likely to go to him. But don't be 
alarmed, /shall accompany him, as per usual. 

\_Exit Fitz Partington. 

Mrs. V. B. {covering her face). Oh, the shame 



200 CHARITY. 

of it ! Oh, the shame of it ! To know that my 
terrible story is the common gossip of every 
plow-boy in the village ; to feel that there is not 
a flighty servant-girl who does not gather her skirts 
about her as she passes me ; to be certain when " 
women cross the road it is to escape the contami- 
nation of my presence ; and when they meet me 
face to face, it is that they may toss their head and 
tell each other that they knew it from the first ! 
Oh, the shame of it ! Oh, the shame of it ! 

Eve. But Mr. Smailey can do nothing. His 
wicked schemes must recoil upon himself. We 
will leave Locroft ; we will leave this fearful place. 
Dr. Athelney sails in a fortnight, and he has made 
arrangements that we may accompany him. There, 
in a new world, with new friends and new duties, 
we shall forget all that is bitter in the past, and 
gather new stores of happiness from the future 
that is before us. {They embrace.) 

Enter Dr. Athelney, l.d. Crosses to Eve. 

Dr. A. Mrs. Van Brugh ; Eve, my dear, prepare 
yourself for a surprise. This morning, Mrs. Van 
Brugh and I were discussing Frederick Smailey's 
probable course of action. That very good or very 
bad young man is at this moment crossing the 
lawn with my son, Ted. He is coming with the 
view, no doubt, of setting all future discussion on 
that point at rest. Let us suspend judgment on 
that admirable or detestable lad until he has 
explained himself. 



CHARITY. 20I 

Eve. I knew he would come ; I was sure of it. 
Mamma, dear, I told you he loved me, I told you 
he would come. 

Enter Fred and Ted Athelney, arm-hirarm. 

Fred. Eve ! 

Eve {running to him). Fred, my dear Fred ! 
{He embraces her.) 

Ted. Here he is, I was sure of him ; Eve and I 
were both sure of him. We knew him. Eve, didn't 
we t 

Fred. Edward came to me, Mrs. Van Brugh, and 
told me that — that you doubted me. {Much 
affected) 

Ted. Yes, I told him that. Don't be angry with 
me, but when Fred Smailey's honor is at stake, 
Ted Athelney doesn't beat about the bush. I went 
straight to him and told him at once how the land 
lay. " Fred," said I, " Eve knows you, and I know 
you, but the others don't. Come over with me and 
show them what you really are. Show them that 
you are the brave, straight-hearted, thorough-going 
fellow I know you to be." He didn't give me time 
to say it twice. 

Fred. Mrs. Van Brugh, will you take my hand } 
{Shakes her hand. Crosses to Dr. A., then shakes 
his hand.) Dr. Athelney, my very dear friend, this 
is very, very kind of you. You are too noble- 
hearted a man to confound the son with the father. 

Dr. A. I hope and trust, sir, that I have done 
you an injustice. {Goes up) 



202 CHARITY. 

Fred. Mrs. Van Brugh, I know not how to ex- 
press my opinion of my father's behavior in terms 
that would be consistent with my duty as a son. 
I am most painfully situated. Permit me to con- 
tent myself with offering you my deepest and most 
respectful sympathy. 

Mi's. V. B. Mr. Smailey, you speak very kindly. 

Ted. And he means kindly, mind that. I'll 
stake my life he means kindly. 

Fred. Thank you, Edward ; thank you very 
heartily. My father, Mrs. Van Brugh, is, I have 
learnt, a very hard man ; a good man, a truly good 
man, but a very hard one. He is unaccountably 
incensed against you ; I have pleaded for you, but, 
alas, in vain. I have implored him to allow you, at 
least, to continue to occupy the cottage which is 
endeared to me by so many happy recollections, 
dear Eve, but in vain. {He takes Eve's hand}i 
He — he answered me harshly for the first time in 
his life. {Much moved) 

Ted. My very dear fellow, heaven bless you for 
that. 

Fred. Under these circumstances I said to my- 
self, How can I lighten this intolerable burden to 
them } If not to Mrs. Van Brugh, at least to Eve. 
I lay awake all last night, thinking it over, and at 
last — at last I saw my way. 

Ted {to Dr. A.). Trust Fred Smailey to find the 
right thing to do. 

Fred. I said to myself, Here is an amiable and 



CHARITY. 203 

blameless young lady placed, through no fault of 
her own, in the painful position of being engaged 
to a member of a family which has done her and 
her mother a fearful and irreparable injury. Asso- 
ciation with such a family must be, to her, a source 
of inconceivable distress. To a sensitive and high- 
minded girl, such as I know my darling to be, an 
alliance with such a family must be simply insup- 
portable. Deeply as I love her, and because I love 
her deeply, I will fight with the great love that is 
within me ; I will act as becomes a man of honor ; 
I will at once, and of my own free will, release her 
from this engagement. Eve, my dear Eve, you are 
free. i^^Y. faints in Mrs. Van Brugh's arms) 

Mrs. V. B. My darling ! My poor, poor darling ! 

Dr. A. (c.) Sir, I have been a clergyman of the 
Church of England for five-and -forty years, and, 
until to-day, I have never regretted the restrictions 
that my calling has imposed upon me. My hands, 
sir, are tied. Ted, my boy, these remarks do not 
apply to you. 

Ted {crosses to Fred Smailey). You infernal vil- 
lain ! You unutterably mean and sneaking villain ! 
{Seising him.) 

Mrs. V. B. Edward ! Edward ! 

Ted. Don't stop me, or I shall kill him. Look 
there, you miserable hound {pointing to Eve), look 
there! Do you see the work that your infernal 
heart has done } Why, you miserable cur, she 
loved you ! You trembling hypocrite, she loved 



204 CHARITY. 

you ! Eve loved you — loved you ! Look at her, 
man, and if your devil's heart don't beat the harder 
for the sight, it hasn't a beat left in it ! 

Mrs. V. B. Dr. Athelney, pray, pray stop him. 

Dr. A. Stop him 'i No, certainly not. Tm too 
fond of plain truth, and I hear it too seldom to stop 
it when I do hear it. Go on with your remarks, my 
boy, if you've any thing else to say. 

Enter Smailey, followed by Fitz Partington, l. 

Mr. S. When your son has quite finished shak- 
ing my son, perhaps you will kindly devote a little 
attention to me. 

Fred. Edward, I sincerely hope you may live to 
apologize for this. {Offers to shake hands ; Ted 
refuses^ 

Dr. A. Mr. Smailey, I must tell you that your 
presence here is an act of audacity for which I was 
not prepared. 

Mr. S. I fear that the surprise of my appearance 
here is but the first of a series of surprises in store 
for you. 

Fitz. And I am convinced of it. 

Dr. A. Leave my house, sir ! {To Smailey.) 

Mr. S. Nay, nay. I am here in the discharge of a 
high public duty, and I propose to remain. Come, 
Dr. Athelney, is this quite considerate } Is this 
quite as it should be t You are a minister of the 
Church, about to be invested with the very highest 
Colonial functions. In affording shelter to this 



CHARITY. 205 

unhappy person, have you not allowed your sympa- 
thy for her misfortunes to blind you to the fact that 
you are a clergyman ? 

Dr. A, Sir, I never had my duty as a clergyman 
so strongly before my eyes as when I placed my 
home at the disposal of this admirable lady. And, 
believe me, sir, I never felt so strongly disposed to 
forget my duty as a clergyman as I do at this mo- 
ment. My hands are tied. Ted, my boy, these 
remarks do not apply to you. 

Ted. Mr. Smailey, if you'll come with me, I'll see 
you out. 

Fitz. {to Ted). See him out t Nonsense. Hear 
him out. He's worth listening to, I can tell you. 

Mr. S. Miss Brandreth {to Mrs. Van Brugh), 
when you denied having ever gone through the 
form of marriage with Captain Van Brugh, I con- 
sidered it my duty, as a magistrate accustomed to 
deal with evidence, to disbelieve you. At the sug- 
gestion of my solicitor {aside, to Fitz) A lie, sir, for 
you are no solicitor ; heaven forgive you ! {Aloud) 
At his suggestion I advertised for the burial certifi- 
cate of the late Mrs. Van Brugh. That advertise- 
ment has been answered. 

Fitz. That advertisement has been answered. 

Mr. S. The person who answered it is at this 
moment waiting without. 

Fitz. Waiting without. 

Mr. S. And, with or without your permission, 
shall be introduced. 



2o6 CHARITY. 

Fitz. Shall be introduced. 

Mr. S. Mr. Fitz Partington shall introduce him. 

Fitz. It ain't a him, it's a her. 

{Opens door, and discovers Ruth.) 
.Mrs. V.B. Ruth Tredgett ! 

Ruth. Ay, missis, 'tain't no other. 

Mr. S. What does this mean } Is this a hoax } 
(Indignantly, to Fitz Partington.) 

Fitz. Is this a hoax.-* {Appealing to the others). 

Mr. S. What does this woman want here ? 

Fitz. Woman, what do you want here } 

Rnth. Want to help you agin her. 

{Indicating Mrs. Van Brugh.) 

Mrs. V. B. Oh, Ruth, Ruth ! 

Mr. 5. Do you mean this, Tredgett .-^ 

{Crosses to Ruth.) 

Rtith. Ay, I mean it, Smailey. It's justice ; and 
justice must be done. . It was done agin me, years 
ago, and why not agin her now .'' 

3Ir. S. Dr. Athelney, this poor woman is an ex- 
ample to you. She has learned her mistress's true 
character. 

Ruth. Ay, I have. I have learned my missis's 
true character. 

Mrs. V. B. Ruth, how have I injured you, that 
even you turn against me "t I loved you, Ruth ! 

Ruth {with some emotion). You ha'n't injured 
me, but I'm a 'spectable woman. You've made me 
'spectable, and you must bide the consequence. 
{To Mr. Smailey) — You want the burial-ticket of 
Captain Van Brugh's dead wife } 



CHARITY. 207 

Mr. S. Yes ; I have offered ^50 for it. 

Ruth. Gi' us the money. 

Mr, S. Why .? 

Ruth. I've got the paper. 

Mr. S. How ? How did you get it ? 

Ruth. No odds how. I've got it. 

Mr. S. Give it to me, and you shall be paid. 

Ruth. Nay, I must ha' the brass first. 

Mr. S. As soon as I've verified it you shall be 
paid. 

Ruth. Maybe you'll take some time over it. I 
must ha' the brass. 

Mr. S. {giving her a bank note). There is the 
money, but mind, if you are deceiving me, there is 
a constable outside. 

Ruth. No fear. ( Tears up the note) 

Mr. S. You fool, what have you done ! Give me 
the paper. 

Ruth. I'll give it to him. 

{Indicating FiTZ Partington, who has come be- 
tween them) 

Fitz. {takes paper and reads). " St. Andrew's 
Church, Port Philip, 17 July, 1858." 

Mr. S. '58 ! Why, she died in '69 — I know she 
died in '69. This is some forgery — we shall want 
the constable yet. 

Fitz. This is some forgery. We shall want the 
constable yet. {Reads.) *' This is to certify that 
on the above date I read the burial service over the 
remains of Martha Vane, of Port Philip." (Smailey 
si7iks into a chair) 



2o8 CHARITY. 

Dr. A. Martha Vane ! 

Mrs. V. B. That was her maiden name, the name 
under which she passed when she left her husband. 

Mr. S. {much confused). This is not what I adver- 
tised for. 

Fiiz. No, but it's what / advertised for. 

Mr. S. You } What have you to do with this } 

Fitz. I was engaged to trace this forgery to you 
at the time when you engaged me to undermine 
the character of this inestimable lady. In strict 
compliance with the terms of our contract, you 
have allowed me the free run of all your books, 
papers, and memoranda, and I am much obliged to 
you. 

Fred, {who has heard this zvith the greatest con- 
cern). Father ! Tell them that it's a lie. 

Fitz. It ain't a lie. The case is only too clear. 
Tredgett and he were both in it, but she turns 
Queen's evidence. Mr. Smailey, I desire to press 
hardly on no fellow-creature, but your own police- 
man is without, and he will be happy to walk off 
with you whenever you find it convenient to be 
arrested. {About to touch Smailey on shotclder.) 

Fred. Father, tell them that it's a lie. {To Fitz.) 
Keep your hands off him, — stand back — it's a lie, I 
tell you. Stand back, or I shall do you a mischief. 
Father, whatever others believe of you, / believe 
you to be the best and truest man on earth. For 
my sake, for the sake of my belief, tell them that 
it's a lie. For the love of God, tell them it's a lie. 



CHARITY, 209 

Mr. S. I have nothing to say, my boy ; I have 
lied enough. 

Fred. But they will take you away! Great 
heaven, think what will follow ! 

Mr. S. I care not what may follow. Whatever 
punishment may be in store for me, will be as noth- 
ing compared to the bitter shame of my degradation 
in the eyes of my poor boy, whom I have loved. He 
will desert me now ! And what matters the rest — 
what matters the rest t 

Fred. Father, I swear that where you are, there 
will I be to the end. 

Mr. S. Heaven bless you for that. 

Fred. Whatever you may have been — whatever 
/ may have been — I am your son, and I love you ; 
and I will be with you — to the end ! 

Mr. S. And the end is at hand. 

Fitz. And the end is at hand. 

\Exeunt Frederick Smail^ey, followed by Fitz 
Partington. Eve stretches out her arms 
towaj'ds Frederick as he goes, but he does 
not see her. 

Ruth {who, during tJie preceding dialogue, has been 

kneeling at Mrs. Van Brugh's/^^/). Mistress, my 

good and kind mistress, I had that paper in safe 

keeping miles away, I walked day and night to 

fetch it. It was hard to leave you in your sorrow, 

but none other could have got it. My mistress, 

my pure and perfect mistress, my angel from 

heaven, we will never part again. 
18* 



2IO CHARITY. 

Mrs, V. B. We will never part again, Ruth. 
Under the guidance of our loving friend, we will 
sail to the new land, where, humbly as becomes 
penitents, cheerfully as becomes those who have 
hope, earnestly as becomes those who speak out of 
the fullness of their experience, we will teach les- 
sons of loving kindness, patience, faith, forbearance, 
hope, and charity. 

Dr, A. " And the greatest of these is CHARITY." 



THE PRINCESS. 

{Being a Respectful Perversion of Mr. Tennyson^ s Poem.) 



DRAMATIS PERSONS. 



King Hildebrand 

Prince Hilarion, his Son 

Cyril ) his friends^ Noblemen of ( 
Florian > King Hildebrand^ s Court ( 

King Gama 

Prince Arac \ { 

Prince Guron >• his Sons ... ^ 

Prince Scynthius) ( 

Atho, King Hildebrand'' s Chamberlain^ 

First Officer 

Second Officer 

GoBBO, a Porter ... 

r Daughter of King Ga~ ^ 
Princess Ida •< ma, and Principal of )■ 

( the Ladies^ University ) 

, „ ( Professor of Experi- \ 

Lady Psyche -j ^ / ^ • C 

( mental CiCieiice ) 

Professor of Abstract \ 

Philosophy ) 

Melissa, her Daughter 

Bertha 

Ada 

Chloe 

Sacharissa 

Sylvia 

Phcebe 

Phyllis 

Amaranths 

Laura ... 



Mr. David Fisher. 
Miss Maria Simpson. 

(Mrs. W. H. Liston.) 

Miss Augusta Thomson. 

Miss Montgomery. 

Mr. Elliott. 

Miss Jessie Earle. 

Miss Harrington. 

Miss Ewell. 

Mr. Franks. 

Mr. Arthur Brown. 

Mr. Davis. 

Mr. St. Maur. 

Miss Mattie Reinhardt. 
Miss Fanny Addison. 



Lady Blanche 



Undergraduates. 



Mrs, Poynter. 


Miss Patti Josephs 


Miss Joy. 


Miss Clyfoard. 


Miss Moore. 


Miss Alma. 


Miss Everard. 


Miss Fitzjames. 


Miss Corinne. 


Miss Graham. 


Miss Clara. 



Undergraduates y Soldiers, Courtiers, Pages, dr>c. 



THE PRINCESS. 



Scene First. — Court in King Hildebrand' s 

Palace. 

King Hildebrand, discovered seated, in gloomy 
mood — Florian and other Courtiers dis- 
covered looking off through telescopes — 
Cyril standing by the King. 

Hilde. See you no sign of Gama 1 

Flori. None, my liege. 

Hilde. It's very odd indeed ! If Gama fails 
To put in an appearance at our court, 
Before the sun has set in yonder west, 
And fails to bring the Princess Ida here — 
To whom our son Hilarion was betrothed 
At the extremely early age of one — 
There's war between King Gama and ourself. 
{Aside to Cyril) Oh Cyril, how I dread this inter- 
view ! 
It's twenty years since he and I have met. 
He was a twisted monster — all awry, 
As though Dame Nature, angry with her work. 

Had crumbled it in fitful petulance ! 

213 



214 THE PRINCESS. 



Cyril. But, sir, a twisted and ungainly trunk. 
Often bears goodly fruit — perhaps he was 
A kind, well-spoken gentleman ? 

Hilde. Oh, no — 

For, adder-like, his sting lay in his tongue ! 
His bitter insolence still rankles here. 
Although a score of years have come and gone ! 
His outer man, gnarled, knotted as it was, 
Seemed to his cruel and cynical within, 
Hyperion to a Saturday Review ! 

Cyril. Oh, bear with him — he is an old, old man. 
Old men are fretful — peevish, as we know. 
A worm will sometimes turn — so will the milk 
Of human kindness, if it's kept too long. 

Flori. {looking through glass). But stay, my liege ; 
o'er yonder mountain's brow 
Comes a small body bearing Gama's arms ; 
And, now I look more closely at it, sir, 
I see attached to it King Gama's legs ; 
From which I gather this corollary — 
That that small body must be Gama's own ! 

Hilde. Ha ! Is the Princess with him .-* 

Flori. Well, my liege, 

Unless her ladyship is six feet high. 
And wears moustachios, too, and smokes cigars, 
And rides en cavalier^ in coat of mail, 
I do not think she is. 

Hilde. {excited). Come, bustle there ! 

For Gama, place the richest robes we have! 
For Gama, place the coarsest prison dress ! 



THE PRINCESS. 215 

For Gama, let our best spare bed be aired !. 
For Gama, let our deepest dungeon yawn ! 
For Gama, lay the costliest banquet out ! 
For Gama, place cold water and dry bread ! 
For as King Gama brings the Princess here, 
Or brings her not, so shall King Gama have — 
Much more than every thing — much less than 
nothing ! 

Enter Prince Hilarion. 

Hilar. Well father, is there news for me, at last ? 

Hilde. My son. King Gama's host is now in sight : 
Prepare to meet the fascinating bride 
To whom you were betrothed so long ago. 
Why, how you sigh ! 

Hilar. My liege, I'm much afraid 

The Princess Ida has not come with him, 

Hilde. And why ? 

Hilar. I've heard she has forsworn the world, 
And, with a band of women, shut herself 
Within a lonely country house, and there 
Devotes herself to stern philosophies. 

Hilde. Then, I should say, the loss of such a wife 
Is one to which a reasonable man 
Would easily be reconciled. 

Hilar. Oh no — 

Or I am not a reasonable man. 
She is my wife : has been for twenty years. 

Hilde. That's true — you were a baby in long 
clothes 



2i6 THE PRINCESS. 

When you gained Ida's heart and she gained yours. 

Hilar. Yes — I remember — each of us was won ! 
I think I see her now ! {looking through telescope). 

Hilde. Ha ! let me look ! 

Hilar. In my mind's eye, I mean — a blushing 
bride — 
All bib and tucker — frill and furbelow ! 
How exquisite she looked as she was borne 
Recumbent in the monthly nurse's arms ! 
How the bride wept ! — nor would be comforted 
Until the hireling mother-for-the-nonce 
Administered refreshment in the vestry. 
And I remember feeling much annoyed 
That she should weep at marrying with me ; 
" But then," I thought, " these brides are all alike ! 
Cry on, young lady — brides are bound to cry. 
You cry at marrying me 1 How much more cause 
You'd have to cry if it were broken off ! " 
These were my thoughts — I kept them to myself, 
For, at that age, I had not learnt to speak. 

Hilde. Your memory is singularly good. 

Hilar. Do you remember, too, the wedding feast — 
Rolls steeped in milk, and other softened food, 
Fit for our undeveloped little gums t 
And talk of drink, I never shall forget, 
How merrily we passed that nursing bottle ! 
A curly headed patriarch of three — 
The Princess Ida's uncle — then proposed 
The happy couple's health — the bridesmaids, then. 
Fifteen in number — each six weeks of age. 



THE PRINCESS. 217 

Began to weep — the fifteen groomsmen, too 
(The eldest of them eighteen months or so), 
Wept also — then, remembering they were men, 
Dashed from their eyes the unaccustomed brine ! 
We parted then — and since, for twenty years. 
We have not met. It seems quite strange that she 
Should have become a woman in the while ! 
She speaks a hundred languages I'm told. 

Hilde. Your late mamma had mastered only one. 
Yet she was never at a loss for words ! 

Hilar. But think how useful is a wife who can 
Express her fancies in a hundred tongues. 

Hilde. You will find one, of average length, 
enough. 

Hilar. I've heard she hopes to make all women 
swear 
That they'll abjure, for aye, the tyrant Man ! 
She's far before the age in which she lives ! 

Hilde. At all events she's singular in that ; 
Most grown up ladies of our court give out 
That they are several years behind their age ! 

Hilar. A woman thus endowed should have been 
born 
A century hence, at least ! 

Hilde. The day will come 

When you will most devoutly wish she had. 

Enter Cyril. 

Cyi'il. My liege. King Gama's train is at the gate, 
xA.nd prays admission. 
19 



2i8 THE PRINCESS. 

Hilde, Cyril, show him in. 

Though Princess Ida wore a Gorgon's head, 
He shall not tamper with King Hildebrand ! 

Flourish — Procession. Enter Cyril, Florian and 
Court, ushering King Gama, and one Attend- 
ant. 

Gama. So this is Castle Hildebrand } — well, 
well — 
Dame Rumor whispered that the place was grand ; 
She told me that your taste was exquisite — 
Superb — unparalleled — 

Hilde. Oh, really, king 

Gama But she's a liar ! Why, how old you've 
grown ! 
Is this Hilarion ? — why you've changed, too ! 
You were a singularly handsome child ! 
(to Cyril) Are you a courtier } Come, then, ply 

your trade ! 
Tell me some lies : how do you like your king t 
Vile Rumor says he's all but imbecile — 
Now that's not true ! 

Cyril. My lord, we love our king : 

His wise remarks are valued by his court 
As precious stones. 

Gama. And for the self-same cause ! 

Like precious stones the wit of Hildebrand 
Derives its value from its scarcity ! 
Come now, be honest, tell the truth for once, 
Tell it of me ! Come, come, I'll harm you not ! 



THE PRINCESS. 219 

This leg is crooked — this foot is ill-designed — 
This shoulder wears a hump — come, out with it ! 
Look, here's my face — now am I not the worst 
Of Nature's blunders ? 

Hilar. Nature never errs. 

To those who know the workings of your mind, 
Your face and figure, sir, suggest a book 
Appropriately bound. 

Gama. Why, harkye, sir ! 

How dare you bandy words with me } 

Hilar: No need 

To bandy aught that appertains to you. 

Gama (to Hildebrand). Do you permit this, 
king } 

Hilde. We are in doubt 

Whether to treat you as an honored guest, 
Or as a traitor knave who plights his word 
And breaks it ! 

Gama. If the casting vote's with me 

I give it for the former. 

Hilde. We shall see : 

By the terms of our contract, signed and sealed 
You're bound to-day to bring the Princess here 
To join her spouse. Why is she not with you } 

Gama. Why ? Come, I'll tell you, if you'll 
answer this : 
What think you of a wealthy purse-proud man 
Who, TA hen he calls upon a starving friend, 
Pulls out his gold, and flourishes his notes, 
And flashes diamonds in the pauper's eyes — 



2 20 THE PRINCESS. 

What name have you for such an one ? 

Hilde. A snob ! 

Gama. Just so : King Hildebrand, I am no snob. 
The girl has beauty, virtue, learning, wit, 
Grace, humor, wisdom, charity, and pluck. 
Would it be kindly, think you, to parade 
These brilliant qualities before yoitr eyes ? 
Oh no. King Hildebrand, I am no snob ! 

Hilde. But hang it, man, the contract that we 
signed 
Some twenty years ago — 

Gama. Why, here's good news ! 

{to Cottrt) At last your king is going to redeem 
His lengthy list of broken promises — 
And very properly, as wise men should, 
Begin at the beginning ! 

Hilde. Stop that tongue. 

Or you shall lose the monkey head that holds it ! 
Oh, I'll be even with you, yet, for this. 

Gama. Bravo ! Your king deprives me of my 
head. 
That he and I may meet on equal terms ! 

Hilde. Of this anon — we'll try the force of 
arms — 
Where is she now ? 

Gama. In Castle Adamant — 

One of my many country houses. There 
She rules a woman's University, 
With full five hundred girls who learn of her. 

Cyril. Five hundred girls ! Five hundred ecsta- 
sies ! 



THE PRINCESS. 221 



Gama. But no mere girls, my good young gentle- 
man ! 
With all the college learning that you boast, 
The youngest there will prove a match for you ! 

Cyril. With all my heart, if she's the prettiest ! 
Fancy — five hundred matches — all alight ! 
That's if I strike them, as I hope to do. 

Gama. Despair your hope — their hearts are 
dead to man. 
He who desires to gain their favor must 
Be qualified to strike their teeming brains. 
And not their hearts ! They're safety-matches, sir, 
And they light only on the knowledge box, 
So y Olive no chance ! 

Hilar. We'll try, at all events. 

I'll take no soldiers, father, in my train — 
Cyril and Florian here will go with me. 
And we will storm them ere the week is out. 

Gama. That's brave! They're only women — 

storm away ! 
Hilar. Oh, don't mistake us, sir, we mean to 
storm 
Their eyes and hearts, and not their citadel. 
With sighs we'll charge our mines and counter-mines, 
Dance steps shall be our scaling ladders, with 
Those croquet mallets for our battering rams. 
Fair flowers shall bear the only blades we wield, 
Our eyes shall be our very deadliest darts. 
And bon-bon crackers our artillery ! 

Gama. And so you think to conquer them with 
sighs } '^ 



222 THE PRINCESS. 

My good young gentleman, a sigh, to them, 

Is simply an exceptionally marked 

Contraction of the intercostal muscles ! 

Croquet is interesting only when 

It illustrates familiar theories 

Of incidental and reflecting angles. 

Fair flowers, to them, are mere embodiments 

Of calyx, pistil, stamina, and petal. 

Expressive eyes would have their charm, no doubt -— 

Hilar. Of course ! 

Gama. But only, be it understood. 

As illustrating theories of vision ! 
But here are letters — take them if you like — 
Perhaps she's tired of disobedience. 
And may admit you. 

Hilde. Good : Hilarion, go, 

Take Florian and Cyril, as you say. 
King Gama, we detain you prisoner here. 
As hostage for the safety of our son. 

Gama. A prisoner } Why, what should I do here 
At Castle Hildebrand } I am not mad ! 

Hilde. You can amuse yourself by fancying 
That there's an execution in our house. 
And you're the party in possession — or^ 
That we are dead and you've succeeded us. 
In short, suppose whatever state of things 
Would offer you the greatest happiness ; 

Gama {to Hilarion). You run a risk, my friend ; 
so take good heed. 
For no one knows her temper but myself : 



THE PRINCESS. 223 

{to King) Since her betrothal, king, until the day 
When she abjured all male society, 
I was the only man she ever saw ! 

Hilar. Oh, that explains the mystery at once, 
And simplifies our task — come, Florian, 
And we will show these maidens what they've lost. 
[Exeunt Hilarion, Florian, and Cyril. 

Scene Second. — The Gates of Castle Adauiant. 
Enter Gobbo, with ladies' robes on his arm. 

Gobbo. More robes for undergraduates ! I sup- 
pose 
Some students are expected here to-day. 
No girl without a robe may pass those gates ! 
They are so proud of these here caps and gowns, 
They hardly like to take 'em off a-night ! 
They even wear (or so I've heard it said) 
Night-caps and night-gowns when they go to bed ! 

\Exit into porter s lodge. 

Enter Hilarion, Cyril, and Florian. 

Hilar. So, here's the Princess Ida's castle .'* Well, 
They must be lovely girls if it requires 
Such walls as these to keep intruders off ! 

Cyril. To keep men off is only half their charge, 
And that the easier half. I much suspect 
The object of these walls is not so much 
To keep men off as keep the maidens in ! 

Hilar. Here lives the porter, Cyril. I'll be bound 



224 THE PRINCESS. 

He's quite as learned as the rest of them, 

Half Newton and half Bacon ! Here he comes. 

Enter Go'bbo from lodge. 

Cyril. Half Bacon ? No, — all Bacon I should 

say ! 
Gohbo. Now then, what is it ? 
Hilar. I'm a royal prince ; 

These gentlemen are followers of mine ; 
We hold King Gama's letters, charging you 
To bear us safely to the Council Hall, 
In which the Princess Ida holds her state. 
Gobbo. Ho ! ho ! ho ! ho ! 
Hilar. How now ? — you mock at us ? {Draws 

sword^i 
Gohbo. Mock you ? Why, bless your heart and 
soul alive, 
No man may place his foot within those walls ; 
It's death to disobey our Princess, sir ! 

Flori. It's double death to disobey your king ! 

{draws ^ 
Cyril. It's treble death to disobey ourselves! 

{draws ^ 
Gobbo. But, sirs, I am the only man alive 
Who ever enters ! 

Flori. You ? 

Gobbo. Yes ! Once a year 

I am led through their ranks that they may see 
What sort of thing's a man! "See here!" she 
cries. 



THE PRINCESS. 225 

" See — this is what you lose in losing man ! 

This is a courtly knight — well born, well formed ! " 

(I'm comely, sirs ; but, bless you, I'm no knight !) 

*' Look, girls," she cries, " this is a courtly knight — 

A type of all that's beautiful in man ! " 

{aloud) And then they make me gibber, squeak, 

and mow ; 
Then, with much deference and mock courtesy. 
They bow me to my duty at the gate ! 

Flor. Are there no males whatever in those walls ? 

Gobbo. None, gentlemen, excepting letter mails ! 
And they are driven (as males often are 
In other large communities) — by women ! 
If you'll believe me, gentlemen, I swear, 
She's so confoundedly particular, 
She'll scarcely suffer Dr. Watts's hymns ; 
And all the animals she owns are " hers " ! 
The ladies rise at cockcrow every morn 

Hilar. Oh, then they have male poultry ! 

Gobbo. Not at all. 

{confide7ttially.) The crowing's done by an accom- 
plished hen ! 

Cyril. And what are these ^ {Looking at robes in 
lodge ^ 

Gobbo. The academic robes, 

Worn by the lady undergraduates 
When they matriculate. 

Hilar. I'll try one on. {Does so) 

Why, see — I'm covered to the very toes ! 
Ha ! I've a proposition ! 



226 THE PRINCESS. 

Flori. ' State it then. 

Hilar. Suppose we dress ourselves as girls, and 
claim 
Admission to this University ? 
It is a thing we've often done at home 
In amateur theatricals. You know 
How well I play viragos in burlesque ! 
Flori. My Cleopatra, too — remember that ! 
Cyril. My Mrs. Bouncer, too, in ' Box and Cox ' ! 
Hilar. Wilt play the woman, then 1 
Cyril. Of course ! What knight 

Would hesitate to " take a woman's part " t 

Quartette. — Hilarion, Cyril, Florian, ^///^T 
GoBBO, as they dress tJiemselves in women s 
clothes. 

" Les Trois Coitsines " (La Perichole). 

Flori. If we are hailed with any query, 

Say we are nice young ladies, three ; 
Who of the world terribly weary, 
. Enter a University. 
Such lovely girls, ha, ha, ha, ha ! 
All. Such lovely girls, ha, ha, ha, ha ! 

Cyril. We will declare to them that lately, 

We have been bored with suitors stately, 
And we prefer young ladies greatly — 
Sorry to say that that's too true ! 
All. Sorry to say that that's too true ! 

Hilar We must take care when we are talking, 
Never our manly tastes to show ; 



THE PRINCESS, 227 

Hold up our dresses thus in walking. 
Showing an inch of ankle — so ! 

AIL Showing an inch of ankle — so ! 

Such lovely girls, ha, ha, ha, ha ! 
Such lovely girls, ha, ha, ha, ha ! 

Gobbo {in terror). But, gentlemen, observe — if 
you do this, 
What's to become of me ? 

Hilar. I do not know 

What will become of you if we do this ; 
But I can read the fate in store for you 
If you presume to interfere with us. 
Now, porter, say to whom we should apply 
To gain admission. 

Gobbo {in tears). Why, to Lady Blanche 
Or Lady Psyche. 

Fieri. Which is prettier ? 

Gobbo, Well, / like Lady Blanche by far the best. 

Flori. Then we declare for Lady Blanche at once. 

Gobbo. You see, she's more my age — the other 
one. 
Is young and pretty ! {cojitemptiiously). 

Cyril. Bah ! Then I retract ; 

We will be Psyche's interesting charge ! 
So go and summon her. (Gobbo rings and then exit.) 

Flori. But stop a bit, 

What will your father think of such a scheme } 

Cyril. Oh, he be — dashed ! 

Hilar. Extremely shocked I am ! 

Cyril. I meant my sire — 



228 THE PRINCESS. 

Hilar. I thought you meant your " dam " ! 

Enter Lady Psyche ykj?/^ gate^ attended. 

Psyche. Who summons us ? 

Hilar. Three would-be students, ma*am — 

Three noble ladies, ma'am, of good estate, 
Who wish to join this University {they courtesy). 

Psyche. If, as you say, you wish to join our ranks, 
And will conform with all our rules, 'tis well ; 
But understand — you must adapt yourselves 
To all the regulations now in force, 
In Princess Ida's University. 

Hilar. To" all its rules, we cheerfully subscribe. 

Flori. {aside to Hilarion). Here's a catastrophe, 
Hilarion ! 
This is my sister ! She'll remember me. 
Though years have passed since she and I have 
met ! 

Hilar. No matter, hide your face — she'll know 
you not. 

Psyche. You say you're noblewomen — well, 
you'll find 
No sham degrees for noblewomen, here — 
Or other cruel contrivances to draw 
An arbitrary line 'twixt rich and poor, 
No butteries, or other institutes. 
To make poor students feed rich cooks — no tufts 
To mark nobility ; except such tufts 
As indicate nobility of brain. 
As to your fellow-students, mark me well — 



THE PRINCESS. 229 



There are five hundred maidens in these walls 
All good, all learned, and all beautiful. 
You must select your intimates from these ; 
They are prepared to love you ; will you swear 
You'll do your best to love them in return ? 

Flori. Upon our words and honors, ma'am, we 
will! 

Psyche. And will you swear that if, by any 
chance, 
You're thrown into a man's society, 
You'll not allow your thoughts to stray from us, 
But, at the earliest opportunity. 
You'll give up his society for ours ? 

Cyril. All this, dear madam, cheerfully we swear. 

Psyche. But we go further : will you undertake 
That you will never marry any man ? 

Flori. Indeed we never will ! 

Psyche. Consider well, — 

You must prefer our maids to all mankind ! 

Hilar. To all mankind we much prefer your 
maids ! 

Cyril. We should be dolts, indeed, if we did not, 
Seeing how fair 

Hilar, {aside to Cyril). Take care, that's rather 
. strong ! 
(aloud) We have seen men of wealth — ay, princes 

too — 
Whose beauty has been so remarkable. 
That half the maidens in our monarch's court 
Have pined away and died for love of them ! 



230 THE PRINCESS. 



These men — Apollos in their manly grace, 
Indeed in every thing (except in that 
They wore a proper quantity of clothes) — 
We think of with profound indifference, 
But, when we see a woman who excels 
In virtue, scholarship, and loveliness, 
We long to lay our heads upon her breast, 
And join our lives with hers ! 

Psyche. Why, that's well said. 

But have you left no lovers at your home. 
Who may pursue you here ? 

Hilar. No, madam, none — 

We're homely ladies, as no doubt you see, 
And we have never fished for lover's love — 
We smile at girls who deck themselves with gems, 
False hair, and meretricious ornaments, 
To chain the fleeting fancy of a man ; 
But do not imitate them. What we have 
Of hair is all our own — our color, too, 
Unladylike, but not unwomanly, 
Is but the glow of rugged, boisterous health ; 
Our gait, untrammeled by the influence 
Of high heeled boots, small waists, and Grecian 

bends. 
May seem undignified — but then we walk 
As Nature meant us to — and man has learnt 
To reckon Nature an impertinence ! 

Psyche. I know how coldly men regard a girl, 
Whose beauty is her poorest excellence ; 
But beauty goes for nothing in these walls. 



THE PRINCESS. 231 

You'll find yourselves appreciated here : 

If what you say is true, you'll spend with us 

A happy, happy time ! 

Cyril. If, as you say, 

Five hundred lovely maidens wait within 
To welcome us with smiles and open arms, 
I think there's very little doubt we shall ! 

\ExeiLnt into Castle. 

Scene Third. — Grounds of Castle Adamant ; 

Waterfall and Stream, crossed by rustic 

bridge ; Girl-Students discovered grouped 

about the stage, occupied with philosophical 

instruments, &c. 

Ada. I shall be quite alone, dear, in my rooms, 
So come and spend a long, long evening — do ! 
And bring your steam-engine ! 

Chloe. Oh, that I will ! 

And you shall show me all your nice new things — 
That quadrant — and the anemometer ; 
And oh, that darling, darling dumpy-level 
I've heard so much about ! 

Lydia. My love, I see 

You've got another new theodolite. 
{aside to Chloe) That's the fifteenth this month ! 

The one I use 
Went out of fashion half a year ago ! 
Oh, I've a bit of scandal ! What d'you think } 
Melissa found a billet-doux, concealed 



232 THE PRINCESS. 

In that Egyptian mummy we unrolled 
Last night. Just think of that ! 

Enter yi^iASSA, from bridge, nmnijtg. 

Melissa. I say, my dear, 

I have stick news for you ! I've just been shown 
The robe for doctors of divinity. 
Oh, it's the sweetest thing ! — Magenta silk, 
Trimmed with chinchilla, boidllonn^ behind, 
Gored to the figure though ; and on the skirt, 
Two rows of Cluny lace as deep as that ! 

Chloe. Oh my ! how lovely ! 

Melissa. Then the trencher cap 

Is amber satin, trimmed with Cluny lace 
And rows of pearls ; and round the outer edge 
The tiniest, tiniest rosebuds in the world ! 

Ada {to Chloe). It's much more lovely than the 
legal gown — 
Green grenadine, with rftchings down the front, 
That we shall wear. 

CJdoe {pouting). I shall give up the law 
And go into the church ! I've always felt 
A serious longing for a pastor's life ; 
Besides, I'm dark, and look a fright in green ! 

Sacha, Take care, here's Lady Blanche. How 
stern she looks ! 

Enter Lady Blanche, l.. Girls stndy vigorously. 

Blanche. Attention, ladies, while I read to you 
The Princess Ida's list of punishments : 



THE PRINCESS. 233 



The first is Sacharissa. She's expelled. 

All Expelled! 

Blanche. Expelled — because, although she 

knew 
No man of any kind may see these halls, 
She dared to bring a set of chessmen here ! 

Sacha. {in tears). I meant no harm — they're only 
men of wood ! 

Blanche. They're men with whom you give each 
other mate — 
And that's enough ! The next is Sylvia 

Sylvia. Oh ! 

Blanche. Sylvia is rusticated for a month 
Because, in spite of all our college rules 
Upon the point, she dared to put three rows 
Of lace insertion round her graduate's gown ! 
Phyllis will lose three terms, for yesterday, 
When, looking through her drawing book, I found 
A sketch of a perambulator ! 

All {shocked). ' Oh ! 

Blanche. Double perambulator, shameless girl ! 
That's all at present. Now, attention please, 
Your principal, the Princess, comes to give 
Her usual inaugural address, 
To those young ladies who joined yesterday. 

{March. — Enter the Ym^c^s^, over bridge, attended 
by eight " daughters of the plow!' All cour- 
tesy pfvfoimdly.) 

Princess. Women of Adamant — fair neophytes, 

20* 



234 THE PRINCESS. 

Who pant for the instruction we can give, 

Attend, while I unfold a parable : 

The elephant is stronger than the man, 

Yet man subdues him. Why ? The elephant 

Is elephantine everywhere but here {tapping fore- 

Jiead\ 
And Man, who's brain is to the elephant's 
As Woman's brain to Man's — that's rule of three — 
Conquers the foolish giant of the woods, 
As Woman, in her turn, shall conquer Man. 
In mathematics Woman leads the way ! 
The narrow-minded pedant still believes 
That two and two make four ! Why, we can 

prove — 
We women, household drudges as we are — 
That two and two make five — or three — or 

seven — 
Or five-and-twenty, as the case demands ! 
Finance ? Why, I've heard clever men declare. 
Their bankers' balance being overdrawn. 
They don't know where to turn for ready cash, 
Yet willfully ignoring all the while 
That remedy unfailing — draw a check ! 
Diplomacy ? The wily diplomate 
Is absolutely helpless in our hands : 
He wheedles monarchs — Woman wheedles him ! 
Logic ? Why, tyrant man himself admits 
It's waste of time to argue with a woman! 
Then we excel in social qualities — 
Though man professes that he holds our sex 



THE PRINCESS. 235 

In utter scorn, I'll undertake to say 

If you could read the secrets of his heart, 

He'd rather be alone with one of you 

Than with five hundred of his fellow-men ! 

In all things we excel. Believing this, 

Five hundred maidens here have sworn to place , 

Their foot upon his neck. If we succeed, 

We'll treat him better than he treated us, 

But if we fail — oh then let hope fail too ! 

Let no one care one penny how she looks ! 

Let red be worn with yellow — blue with green, 

Crimson with scarlet — violet with blue ! 

Let all your things misfit, and you yourselves 

At inconvenient moments come undone ! 

Let hair-pins lose their virtue ; let the hook 

Disdain the fascination of the eye, — 

The bashful button modestly evade 

The soft embraces of the button hole ! 

Let old associations all dissolve, 

Let Swan secede from Edgar — Grant from Gask, 

Sewell from Cross — Lewis from Allenby — 

In other words, let Chaos come again ! 

Who lectures in the Upper Hall to-day "i 

Blanche. I, madam, on Abstract Philosophy. 
There, I propose considering at length 
Three points — the Is, the Might Be, and the Must. 
Whether the Is, from being actual fact, 
Is more important than the vague Might Be, 
Or the Might Be, from taking wider scope. 
Is, for that reason, greater than the Is, 



236 THE PRINCESS. 

And lastly, how the Is and Might Be stand 
Compared with the inevitable Must. 

Prill. The subject's deep — how do you treat it, 
pray ? 

Blanche. Madam, I take three Possibilities, 
And strike a balance then between the three. 
As thus — the Princess Ida Is our head — 
The Lady Psyche Might Be — Lady Blanche — 
Neglected Blanche — inevitably Must. 
Given these three hypotheses — to find 
The actual betting against each of them ! 
Come, girls ! [Exeunt Lady Blanche (^/^^^T Students. 

Prin. {looking after her). Ambitious fool. And 
do you think you can 
Provide this college with a head. Go, go ! 
Provide yourself with one — you want it more ! 

Enter Lady Psyche, over bridge, conducting Hila- 
RiON, Florian, and Cyril. 

Lady P. Here is the Princess Ida's favorite grove. 
And here's the Princess. {To Princess.) These are 

ladies three 
Who join our College. 

Hilar, {aside to Cyril). Gods ! how beautiful ! 

Pri7t. What special study do you seek, my friend ? 

Hilar, {enraptured). Madam, I come that I may 
learn to live. 
For, if I come not here, I die ! 
- Prin. {laughiftg). Indeed } 

Your case is desperate ! We welcome you. 



THE PRINCESS. 237 

We meet at luncheon — until then, farewell ! 

[Exit Princess. 

Flori. (aside to Hilarion). When Psyche sees 
my face, I'm confident 
She'll recognize her brother Florian. 
Let's make a virtue of necessity, 
Aifd trust our secret to her gentle care. 

(Hilarion assents') 
{aloud) Psyche! Why don't you know me — Florian ? 

(Psyche amazed. ) 

Psyche. Why, Florian ! 

Flori. My sister ! 

Psyche. Oh, my dear. 

What are you doing here — and who are these ? 

Hilar. I am that Prince Hilarion to whom 
Your Princess is betrothed — I come to claim 
Her promised love — your brother Florian, here, 
And Cyril — come to see me safely through. 

Psyche. The Prince Hilarion ! — Cyril too ! How 
strange ! 
My earliest playfellows ! 

Hilar, {astonished). Why let me look ! 
Are you that learned little Psyche who 
At school alarmed her mates because she called 
A buttercup " ranunculus bulbosus " } 

Cyril. Are you indeed that Lady Psyche, who 
At children's parties drove the conjurer wild. 
Explaining all his tricks before he did them } 

Hilar. Are you that learned little Psyche, who 
At dinner parties brought into dessert 



238 THE PRINCESS. 

Would tackle visitors with "you don't know 
Who first determined longitude — I do — 
Hipparchus 'twas, B.C. one sixty three ! " 
Are you indeed that little Psyche then 1 

Psyche. That small phenomenon in truth am I ! 
But gentlemen, 'tis death to enter here — 
My vow will make me speak. What shall I do ? 
This palace is a rat trap — we the bait — 
And you the foolish victims ! 

Cyril. Be it so — 

A prisoned rat, before he dies the death, 
Has liberty to nibble at the bait ! (kisses her). 

Psyche. Forbear, sir — pray — you know not 
what you do ! 
We have all promised to renounce mankind. 

Hilar. But on what grounds do you, fair Psyche, 
base 
This senseless resolution } 

Psyche. Senseless ? No ! 

It's based upon the grand hypothesis 
That as the Ape is undeveloped Man, 
So Man is undeveloped Woman. 

Hilar. Then, 

This, of all others, is the place for us ! 

Enter Melissa wtperceived^ at back ; she listens in 
asto7iishment. 

If Man is only undeveloped Woman, 
We men, if we work very hard indeed, 
And do our utmost to improve ourselves — 



THE PRINCESS. 239 



May in good time be women ! Though I own 
Up to this point (as far as I'm aware) 
The metamorphosis has not commenced. 

Melissa, {coming down). Oh, Lady Psyche ! — 

Psyche, {startled). What — you heard us, then ? 
Oh, all is lost ! 

Melissa. Not so ; Til breathe no word. 

{Advancing in astonishnent to Florian.) 
How marvelously strange ! And are you then. 
Indeed, young men ? 

Flori. Well, yes — just now we are ; 

But hope, by dint of study, to become, 
In course of time, young women ! 

Melissa {eagerly). No ! no ! no ! 

Oh, don't do that ! Is this indeed a man ? 
I've often heard of them, but till this day 
Never set eyes on one. They told me men 
Were hideous, idiotic, and deformed ! 
They're quite as beautiful as women are ! 
{patting Florian's cheek) Their cheeks have not 

that pulpy softness which 
One gets so weary of in womankind ! 
Their features are more marked, — and oh ! their 
chins {feeling his chiii) 

How curious ! 

Flori. I fear it's rather rough. 

^ Melissa. Oh, don't apologize — I like it so ! 
But I forgot ; my mother. Lady Blanche, 
Is coming — and her eyes are very keen — 
She will detect you, sir ! 



240 THE PRINCESS. 

Hilar. Oh, never fear ! 

We saw her ladyship an hour ago ; 
She seemed to have suspicions of our sex, 
And showed us robes, and gave us needlework, 
As though to test us. Well, we did the work 
Like seamstresses — and named the various stuffs, 
As if we'd spent a full apprenticeship 
At Swan and Edgar's ! 

Enter Lady Blanche. Exeunt the three Gentle- 
men with Lady Psyche. 

Blanche (aside to Melissa). Here, Melissa — 
hush ! 
Those are the three new students t 

Melissa {confused). Yes, they are — 

They're charming girls ! 

Bla7iche {sarcastically). Particularly so ! 
So graceful, and so very womanly ; 
So skilled in all a girl's accomplishments ! 

Melissa {confused). Yes very skilled ! 

Blanche. You stupid little fool ! 

Awhile ago, I placed before their eyes. 
Some Cluny lace — they called it Valenciennes — 
Hemming is stitching — so at least they say — 
A gusset is a gore — a tuck's a flounce — 
Merino's cotton — linen's calico — 
Poplin is silk, and rep is corduroy ! 
I bade them hem a pocket handkerchief — 
They placed their thimbles on their forefingers / 
And set about their work as clumsily 



THE PRINCESS. 241 



As if they had been men, in girls' disguise ! 

Melissa (tremblijig). You surely wrong them, 
Mother dear, for see — {picking up a case 
from jloor) 
Here is an ^ttd dropped by one of them — 

Containing scissors, needles, and 

Blanche {taking it from her, and opening it). 
Cio^ars ! ! ! 
Why these are men ! And you knew this, you cat ! 
Melissa. Oh, spare them — they are gentlemen, 
indeed, 
The Prince Hilarion — betrothed long since 
To Princess Ida — with two trusted friends ! 
Consider, Mother, he's her husband now ! 
And has been, twenty years ! Consider, too, 

{insidiously) 
You're only second here — you should be first — 
Assist the Prince's plan, and when he gains 
The Princess Ida's hand, you will be first ! 
You will design the fashions — think of that ! 
And always serve out all the punishments ! 
The scheme is harmless, Mother — wink at it ! 
Blanche. The prospect's tempting! Well, well, 
well, I'll try — 
Though I've not winked at any thing for years ! 
'Tis but one step towards my destiny — 
The mighty Must ! Inevitable Shall ! 

\Exit Lady Blanche. 
Melissa. Saved for a while, at least ! 



21 



242 THE PRINCESS. 

Enter Florian. 

Flori. Melissa here ? 

Melissa. Oh, sir, you must away from this at once, 
My mother guessed your sex — it was my fault, 
I blushed and stammered so, that she exclaimed : 
" Can these be men " (then seeing this) " Wh}- 

these " 

'^ Are men ! " she would have added, but ^^ are men " 
Stuck in her throat ! She keeps your secret, sir. 
For reasons of her own ; but fly from this, 
And take me with you — that is — no, not that ! 

Flori. I'll go — but not without you. {Bell.) 
Why, what's that? 

Melissa. The luncheon bell. 

Flori. rU wait for luncheon, then. 

See, here's Hilarion with the stern Princess, 
And Cyril with my sister Psyche, too. 

Enter Cyril with Psyche, and Hilarion with 
Princess, Lady Blanche, also all the other 
Girls, over bridge, bearing luncheon, which is 
spread. They all sit down and eat, Cyril 
drinking freely. 

Prin. You say you know the Court of Hildebrand .'' 
There is a prince there — I forget his name. 

Hilar. Hilarion ? 

Prin. Exactly. Is he well .? 

Hilar. If it is well to droop and pine and mope — 
To sigh, " Oh, Ida ! Ida ! " all day long — 
" Ida ! my love ! my life ! Oh, come to me ! " — 



THE PRINCESS. 243 



If it is well, I say, to do all this, 
Then Prince Hilarion is very well. 

Prill. He breathes our name ? Well, it's a com- 
mon one ! 
And is the booby comely ? 

Hilar. Pretty well. 

I've heard it said that if I dressed myself 
In Prince Hilarion's clothes (supposing this 
Consorted with my maiden modesty), 
I might be taken for Hilarion's self. 
But what is this to you or me, who think 
Of all mankind with unconcealed contempt } 

Prill. Contempt .? Why, damsel, when I think of 
man, 
Contempt is not the word ! 

Cyril (^getting tipsy). I'm sure of that ; 

Or, if it is, it surely should not be ! 

Hilar, {to Cyril). Be quiet, idiot, or they'll find 
us out ! 

Cyril The Prince Hilarion's a goodly lad ! 

Prill. You know him, then .? 

0'^'2^. I rather think I do ! 

We were inseparables. 

Prin. Why, what's this .? 

You loved him then "i {horrified). 

Cyril. We did — and do — all three ! 

And he loves us sincerely in return ! 

Hilar {confused). Madam, she ]^s\.?> ~ {aside to 
Cyril.) Remember where you are ! 

Cyril Jests .? Not at all — why, bless my heart 
alive, 



244 THE PRINCESS. 

You and Hilarion, when at the Court, 
Rode the same horse ! 

Prill. Astride ? 

Cyril. Of course — why not ? 

Wore the same clothes — and once or twice, I 

think 
Got tipsy in the same good company ! 

Prin. Well, these are nice young ladies, on my 

word — 
Cyril {to Florian). Don't you remember that 
old laughing song, 
That he and we would troll in unison. 
At the Three Pigeons — just when daylight broke? 
I'll give it you ! 

Soitgj Cyril, Air — Laughing Song from '^ Mauon 

LescatUy 

A young and earnest reader, 
Once with a special pleader, 
Was reading for the bar. 
Ha! ha! ha! ha! 
A budding luminary. 
Particularly wary. 
As lovers often are, 
Ha! ha! ha! ha! 
He met a lady bright, ha ! ha ! 
'Twas very late at night, ha ! ha ! 
There shone no moon nor star, 
Ha ! ha ! ha ! ha ! 
Her head lay on his shoulder, 



THE PRINCESS. 245 

And what d'you think he told her ? — 

You'll never guess, I know. 
I scarcely like to tell you, 
For fear it "should repel you — 
Come, whisper, whisper low ! 

No ! no ! no ! no ! no ! no ! no ! no ! 
Ha! ha! ha! ha! ha! ha! ha! ha! 

They threaded many mazes, 
Of buttercups and daisies. 
They wandered very far, 
Ha! ha! ha! ha! 
So amiable he found her. 
He put his arms around her, 
And she opposed no bar, 
Ha! ha! ha! ha! 
He squeezed her httle fin, ha ! ha ! 
He chucked hei* little chin, ha ! ha ! 
And christened her his star, 
Ha! ha! ha! ha! 
Her head lay on his shoulder. 
And what d'you think he told her ? 

You'll never guess, I know — 
I'll hazard it and tell you, 
Although it may repel you — 
Come, whisper, whisper low ! 

No ! no ! no ! no ! no ! no ! no ! no ! 
Ha! ha! ha! ha! ha! ha! ha! ha! 
(After song he lights a cigarette. ) 

Prin. Infamous creature — get you hence away ! 
21* 



246 THE PRINCESS. 

Hilar. Dog ! Here is something more to sing 
about ! {Strikes him) 

Cyril {sobered). Hilarion — are you mad ? 
Prill, {astonished). * Hilarion ? Help ! 

Why these are men ! Lost ! Lost ! betrayed ! un- 
done ! {/unning on to bridge). 
Girls, get you hence — man-monsters, if you dare 
Approach one step — I — ah ! {loses balance and 
falls) 
Psyche. Oh ! save her, sir ! 

Blanche. It's useless, sir, you'll only catch your 
death. (Hilarion springs in) 

Sacha. He catches her — 

Melissa. And now he lets her go — 

Again she's in his grasp — 

Psyche. And now she's not ! 

He seizes her back hair — j 

Blanche. And it comes off ! 

Psyche. No — no — she's saved ! She's saved ! 
She's saved ! She's saved ! 
(Hilarion is seen swimming with the Princess 
in one arm — Jie swims to a bank and the 
Princess arid he are bivugJit to land) 
Prill. You've saved our lives and so have saved 
your own, 
But leave this palace — men in women's clothes ! 

Rjiter Lydia, rnnning. 

Why, what's the matter now ? 

Lydia, King Hildebrand, 



THE PRINCESS. 247 



Holding your father captive, sends to say 
That if Hilarion suffers any harm, 
Your father's hfe will pay the penalty, 
Moreover — if you do not yield yourself, 
According to the tenor of your oath, 
He will attack you ere to-morrow's dawn — 
And force compliance ! 

Prill. Will he so, indeed ? 

We'll teach these men a lesson. [To Hilarion.) 

Get you gone ! 
You saved our hves — we thank you for it — go ! 
Arm, Amazons ! We'll show these gentlemen. 
How nobly Woman vindicates her claim 
To equal individuality ! 
Arm ! Arm ! This is our opportunity. 
The three Gentlemen are thrust forth by the 
Amazons. Tableau. 

Scene Fourth. — Hildebrand's Camp before Ida's 

Castle. 

Enter Hildebrand and Gama. 

Hilde. The Princess Ida still holds out, although 
Our camp is fairly pitched before her walls. 
King Gama, if Hilarion comes not back 
All safe and sound, you'll surely suffer death ! 
Your head for his ! 

Gama. The stakes are poorly matched : 

It's Lombard Street against a China orange ! 

Hilde. lu the mean time, pray make yourself at 
home, 



248 THE PRINCESS. 

Direct my army as it were your own. 
On every matter that concerns the state, 
Your orders give ; — they will not be obeyed, 
But that don't matter ! 

Gama. Don't it ? 

Hilde. Not a jot ! 

The ecstasy of absolute command 
Is seriously dashed when you reflect, 
That for all consequences that ensue. 
You by the world are held responsible ! 
But here, where all are bound to hear your word 
With every outward token of respect. 
They systematically disobey it, 
Your power of high command is just as great, 
The consequences absolutely nil. 

Enter Atho. 

Atho. My liege, three gentlemen await without, 
Attended by a troop of soldiery. {Gives note). 
Gama {reads). " The Princes Arac, Guron, Scyn- 
thius, 
King Gama's sons, desire that you will set 
Their father free." (T^*? Atho.) Admit these gentle- 
men. {Exit Atho. 
My sons ! That's brave ! 

Ejiter Arac, Scynthius, and Guron. 

Hilde. What would you, gentlemen } 

Arac. What would we ? Why look you, King 
Hildebrand — 



THE PRINCESS, 249 

You hold our father in unkingly bonds, 
Our sister you beleaguer in her home, 
You threaten to lay waste our richest lands, 
And then you coolly ask us, " What would we ? " 
Guron. We come to claim our father at your 

hands. 
ScynthiiLS. We come to save our sister Ida from 
The rude assault of savage soldiery. 
Why they are girls — mere girls • — and should be 

stormed 
As other girls are stormed, if stormed at all ! 

Hilde. As other girls are stormed so shall they be ; 
We'll use no cannon, bayonet, or sword, 
For such ungentlemanly arguments — 
Convincing though they be — would but convince 
These women 'gainst their will ! We'll witch them 

forth 
With love songs, odes, and idle fripperies. 
Such as a woman can not lons^ withstand. 
Stay, you shall see — 

Enter Atho. 

Atho. All is prepared, my liege 

To storm the walls 

Hilde. Then let the siege commence ! 

Enter First Officer. 

Who leads the serenading party, eh t 
First Officer. Sir Michael Costa — 
Hilde. Good ! the light guitars 



250 THE PRINCESS. 

Fall in at six — the King's own baritones, 
Led by Sir Santley — 

First Officer. He's not knighted, sir ! 

Hilde. He shall be, then — they will parade at 
five. {Exit First Officer. 

Enter Second Officer. 

Second Officer. Who leads the scaling party, sir .'* 

Hilde. Of course 

The first light tenors — they can highest go. 

\_Exit Second Officer. 

Atho. And who shall first climb up the outer wall, 
And reconnoiter what goes on within } 

Hilde. Some tenor, fool, who can " go up to see ! " 

{Exit Atho. 
Let all be furnished with their photographs, 
And scatter them among these amazons. 
Bid the director of the poets direct 
And post five hundred valentines, and see 
They get them by to-night's delivery. 
Go, tell the gallant lady, who commands 
The horse brigade of royal milliners. 
To place five hundred toilet tables out 
Within full view of Princess Ida's walls. 
Upon them place five hundred mirrors — then 
Lay out five hundred robes of French design ; 
And if they still hold out they're more than women ! 
{Exeunt Officers, Gama, Arac, Scynthius, ^;^<3? 

Guron. 

King. If all this fails, I have a deadlier scheme. 



THE PRINCESS. 251 



Five hundred waltzing bachelors — tried men, 
Who can waltz forwards — backwards — anyhow — 
Shall twirl and twist before their dazzled eyes, 
Thrumming soft music on a light guitar. 

Song — King Hildebrand, Air, " Largo al 

Factottim!' 

Like a teetotum with a guitar — 

Just so ! 
La, la, la, la ! 
Bachelors spin at 'em thus from afar — 
Just so ! 
La, la, la, la ! 
Oh, tickle their vanity ; 
Oh, never be chary, 
Oh, flatter your fairy, 
Ever unwary. 
Tickle it, ah ! 
Bravo bravissimo. 
Generalissimo. 

Serve her it, ah ! 
Flatter her beauty, 
With an acute eye, 
Say it's your duty. 

Call her a star ! 
Sneer at another. 
Coddle her mother, 
Butter her brother, 
Ever so far ! 
La, la, la, la ! 



252 THE PRINCESS. 

Load her with frippery, 
Glovery, slippery, 

Cleverly planned, no going too far ! 
Marabout feather. 

Gossamer airy, 
Fastened together, 

Give to your fairy. 
La, la, la, la ! 
Oh, tickle her vanity. 

Oh, never be chary. 

Oh, flatter your fairy. 

Ever unwary. 
Tickle it, ah ! 
Marry her merrily. 
Change it all, verily ; 
Snapping and wrangling, 
Jingling and jangling, 
Snarling and snapping. 
Rubbing and rapping. 
" Why are you mum to me .'* 
" Why don't you come to me "l 
" Why are you mum to me t 
" Why don't you come to me "i 
" Quicker, oh ! quicker, oh ! quicker, oh ! 
My goodness ! my gracious ! 

A row, sir ! 
Pucker your brow, sir, 
Pucker it, ah ! 
Pucker it, ah ! 
Lick her, oh, no more ! 



THE PRINCESS. • 253 

Quicker, oh, " The door ! " 
Set it ajar ! 
Light a cigar ! 
Set it ajar! 
Light a cigar ! 
Giver her a sou ! 
Bid her adoo ! 
Give her a sou ! 
Bid her adoo ! 
Bravo bravissimo, 
Finish your capering. 
Like a teetotum 
With a guitar ! 
With a guitar ! 
Witli a guitar ! 
Bravo bravissimo, 
Generalissimo ! 
Take her and marry her, 
Worry her, harry her ; 
Oh, you may carry her 

Ever so far ! 
Just hke a teetotum 
With a guitar ! 

Enter Atho. 

Atho. My liege, I bring good news, your plan 

succeeds. 

Three ladies of the Princess Ida's band 

Are coming towards your camp. 

Hilde. The mirrors did it ! 

22 



I 



254 THE PRINCESS. 

Admit them. 

Enter Hilarion, Cyril a7td Florian, still in 
womeiUs clothes. 

Why — Hilarion ! Cyril too ! 
And Florian ! dressed as women. Ho ! ho ! ho ! 

{all jeer them). 
Hilar. We gained admission to fair Ida's halls, 
By this disguise — We were detected though, 
And should have suffered death, but that she knew, 
In killing us, she killed her father too ! 

Gama {in high glee). Here, set me free ! Hilarion 
safe again — 
Is this indeed Hilarion ? 

Hilar. Yes it is — 

Gama. Why you look handsome in your women's 
clothes, 
Stick to 'em — man's attire becomes you not ! 
{to Florian and Cyril) And you, young ladies, 

will you please to pray, 
King Hildebrand to set me free again ? 
Hang on his neck and gaze into his eyes, 
Bring all your woman's wiles to bear on him. 
He never could resist a pretty face ! 

Cyril. You dog ! Though I wear woman's garb, 
you'll find 
My sword is long and sharp. 

Gama. Hush, pretty one ! 

Here's a virago ! Here's a termagant ! 
If length and sharpness go for any thing, 



THE PRINCESS. 255 

You'll want no sword while you can wag your tongue. 

Flori. What need to talk of swords to such as he ? 
He's old and crippled — {to Gama) Oh, if you were 

young, 
And tolerably straight — and I could catch 
You all alone, I'd —Ah ! 

Gama {bashfully). Oh, go along. 

You naughty girl — why, I'm a married man ! 
But I've three sons — see, ladies — here they are — 
Fine fellows — young and muscular and brave. 
They'll meet you, if you will. Come, what d'ye say ? 

Arac. Ay, pretty ones, engage yourselves with us, 
If three rude warriors who have spent their lives 
Hacking at enemies, affright you not ! 

Hilar, {to Gama). Old as you are, I'd wring your 
shriveled neck 
If you were not the Princess Ida's father ! 

Gama. ■ If I were not the Princess Ida's father, 
And so had not her brothers for my sons, 
No doubt you'd wring my neck — in safety too ! 

Hilar. Enough ! I speak for Florian and Cyril. 
Arac, we take your challenge — three to three — 
So that it's understood that Ida's hand 
Depends upon the issue. 

Arac. There's my hand ; 

If she consents not — sister though she be 
We'll raze her castle to the very ground ! 

\Exeunt. 



256 THE PRINCESS. 

Scene Fifth. — Liner Gate of Castle Adamant. 

All the Lady Students discovered — the eight 
Servants as Amazons — tJie others all around. 
Floitrish — Enter Princess Ida, followed by 
Lady Blanche. 

Prin. Is all prepared for war } We have to meet 
Stern bearded warriors in fight to-day. 
Wear naught but what is necessary to 
Preserve your dignity before their eyes, 
And give your limbs full play. 

Blanche. One moment, ma'am, 
Here is a paradox we should not pass 
Without inquiry. We are prone to say, 
" This thing is Needful — that Superfluous " — 
Yet they invariably co-exist ! 
We find the Needful comprehended in 
The circle of the grand Superfluous ; 
While the Superfluous can not be bought 
Unless you're amply furnished with the Needful. 
These singular considerations are 

Prin. Superfluous, yet not Needful — so, you see, 
These terms may independently exist. 
Women of Adamant, we have to show 
These men how they have under-rated us. 
Now is the time to prove our titles to 
The highest honors they monopolize. 
Now is the time to prove our theory 
That woman, educated to the work. 
Can meet man face to face on his own ground, 



li 



THE PRINCESS. 257 

And beat him there. Now let us set to work ! 
Where is our lady surgeon ? 

Sacha. Madam, here ! 

Prin. We shall require your skill to heal the 
wounds 
Of those that fall. 

Sacha. What ! heal the wounded ? 

Prin. Yes I 

Sacha. And cut off real live legs and arms? 

Prin. Of course! 

Sacha. I wouldn't do it for a thousand pounds ! 

Prin. Why, how is this ? Are you faint-hearted, 
girl ? 
You've often cut them off in theory. 

Sacha. In theory I'll cut them off again 
With pleasure, and as often as you like — 
But not in practice ! 

Prin. Coward, get you hence ! 

I've craft enough for that, and courage too: 
I'll do your work ! My Amazons, advance ! 
Why, you are armed with spears — mere gilded 

toys ! 
Where are your muskets, pray } 

Ada. Why, please you, ma'am. 

We left them in the armory, for fear 
That, in the heat and turmoil of the fight, 
They might go off. 

Prin. " They might ! " Oh, craven souls. 

Go off yourselves ! Thank heaven, I have a heart 
That quails not at the thought of meeting men. 



258 THE PRINCESS, 

I will discharge your muskets. Off with you ! 
Where's my bandmistress ? 

CJdoe. Please you, ma'am, the band 

Do not feel well, and can't come out to-day ! 

Prin. Why, this is flat rebellion ! I've no time 
To talk to them just now ! But happily 
I can play several instruments at once, 
And I will drown the shrieks of those that fall 
With trumpet music such as soldiers love. 
How stand we with respect to gunpowder .-* 
My Lady Psyche — you who superintend 
The lab'ratory, where your class compounds 
That hideous chemical — are you prepared 
To blow these bearded rascals into shreds ? 

Psyche. Why, madam — 

Prill. Well } 

Psyche. Let us try gentler means — 

Treat them with the contempt that they deserve. 
We can dispense with fulminating grains 
While we have eyes with which to flash our rage. 
We can dispense with villainous saltpeter, 
While we have tongues with which to blow them up. 
We can dispense, in short, with all the arts 
That brutalize the practical polemist. 

Prin. {contemptiLoitsly). I never knew a more dis- 
pensing chemist ! 
Away ! away ! I'll meet these men alone, 
For all my women have deserted me ! 



THE PRINCESS. 259 



Enter Melissa. 

Melissa. Madam, your brothers crave an audience. 

Prin. My brothers .? Why, what do they here ? 

Melissa. They come 

To fight for you. 

Prin. Admit them ! 

Blanche. Infamous ! 

One's brothers, ma'am, are men ! 

Pri7i. So I have heard ; 

But all my women seem to fail me when 
I need them most : in this perplexity 
Even one's brothers may be turned to use. 

Enter Arac, Guron, and Scynthius. 
*Arac. My sisters ! 

Pri7i. Arac, Guron, Scynthius, too ! 

{they embrace^ 
Arac. We have arranged that Prince Hilarion 
And his two followers shall fight us here ; 
And if we fall, we've promised him your hand. 
Prin. {sighing). So be it, Arac ; brothers though 
you be, 
With all your faults you're brave, as brutes are 

brave. 
So be it — fight them h'ere, but {aside and bash- 
fully) oh, my brother, 
Kill whom you will, but spare Hilarion ! 
He saved my life ! 

Melissa {aside to Arac). Oh, save me Florian, 
He is her brother ! {indicating Psyche.) 



26o THE PRINCESS. 

PsycJie {aside to Arac). Oh, spare Cyril, sir, ' 
You've no idea what jolly songs he sings ! 

Arac. Bah ! I can spare them all — I want them 
not! 
But here they come, stand back, the lists prepare — 
Get you within those walls, poor trembling ones. 
And see that no one interferes with us. 

Enter Hilarion, Cyril, aiid Florian, with Kings 
Gama and Hildebrand — Princess and La- 
dies retire within outer wall, and group them- 
selves on battlements. 

Gama. Come boys, we've all prepared, begin ! 

begin ! 
Why you lack mettle ! — Gad, I'll spur you up ! 
{To Arac) Look, Arac — there's the son of that 

vile king, 
Who, when he held me as his prisoner. 
Tormented me with tortures worse than death. 
/ hadiit any thing to grnmble at ! 
He found out what particular meats I loved. 
And gave me them — the very choicest wine — 
The costliest robes — the richest rooms were mine. 
He suffered none to thwart my simplest plan, • 
And gave strict orders none should contradict me. 
He made my life a cnrse ! Go in at them ! 
Avenge your father's wrongs! {To Hilarion) And 

as for you 

{poijtting to his sons) Here are three princes, sirs, 

who stand between 



I 



THE PRINCESS. 261 

You and your happiness — so cut them down ! 
Give them no mercy, they will give you none. 
Come, Prince Hilarion, begin, begin ! 
You've this advantage over warriors 
Who kill their country's enemies for pay. 
You know what you are fighting for — look there ! 
{pointing to Ladies 07t battlements?) 
Hilar. Come on ! 
Arac. Come on ! 

Cyril. Come on ! 

Scyn. Come on ! 

. Flori. Come on ! 

{Desperate fight — at the end, Hilarion, 
Cyril, and Florian wotmd Arkc, Guron, 

aJld SCYNTHIUS. 

Prpz. {entering thrvugh gate). Hold ! stay your 
hands ! — we yield ourselves to you. 
Ladies, my brothers all lie bleeding there ! 
Bind up their wounds — but look the other way. 
Is this the end ? How say you, Lady Blanche — 
Can I with dignity my post resign ? 
And if I do, will you then take my place ? 

Blanche. To answer this, it's meet that we consult 
The great Potential Mysteries ; I mean 
The five Subjunctive Possibilities — 
The May, the Might, the Would, the Could, the 

Should. 
Can you resign ? The prince Might claim you ; if 
He Might, you Could — and if you Should, I Would ! 

Prin. I thought as much. Then to my fate I 
yield — 



262 THE PRINCESS. 

So ends my cherished scheme ! Oh, I had hoped 
To band all women with my maiden throng, 
And make them all abjure tyrannic Man! 

Hilde. A noble aim ! 

Prin. You ridicule it now ; 

But if I carried out this glorious scheme, 
At my exalted name Posterity 
Would bow in gratitude ! 

Hilde. But pray reflect — 

If you enlist all women in your cause, 
And make them all abjure tyrannic Man, 
The obvious question then arises, " How 
Is this Posterity to be provided ? " 

Prin. I never thought of that ! My Lady Blanche, 
How do you solve the riddle ? 

Blanche. " Don't ask me -»— 

Abstract Philosophy won't answer it. 
Take him — he is your Shall. Give in to Fate ! 

Prin. And yoii desert me } I alone am stanch ! 

Hilar. Madam, you placed your trust in woman — 
well. 
Woman has failed you utterly — try man, 
Give him one chance, it's only fair — besides, 
Women are far too precious, too divine 
To try unproven theories upon. 
Experiments, the proverb says, are made 
On humble subjects — try our grosser clay. 
And mold it as you will ! 

Cyril. Remember, too, 

Dear Madam, if at any time you feel 



li 



THE PRINCESS. 263 

Aweary of the Prince, you can return 
To Castle Adamant, and rule your girls 
As heretofore, you know. 

Prin. And shall I find 

The Lady Psyche here ? 

Psyche. If Cyril, ma'am, 

Does not behave himself, I think you will. 

Prin. And you, Melissa, shall I find you here .^ 

Melissa. Madam, however Florian turns out, 
Unhesitatingly I answer. No. 

Gama. Consider this, my love : if your mamma 
Had looked on matters from your point of view 
(I wish she had), why, where would you have been ? 

Lady B. There's an unbounded field of specula- 
tion, 
On which I could discourse for hours ! 

Prin. No doubt ! 

We will not trouble you. Hilarion, 
I have been wrong — I see my error now. 
Take me, Hilarion — *' We will walk the world 
Yoked in all exercise of noble end ! 
And so through those dark gates across the wild 
That no man knows ! Indeed, I love thee — Come ! " 

Finale, from '' Le Pont des Soupirs." 

Cyril. Singers know 

How sweetly at a piano 
A tenor and soprano 
Together sound. 

Chorus. Singers know, &c. 



264 



THE PRINCESS. 



Hilar. This will show 

That men and women verily 
Can get along more merrily 
Together bound. 
Chorus. This will show 

That men and women verily 
Can get along more merrily 
Together bound ! 
Together bound ! 
Together bound ! 



THE PALACE OF TRUTH 



IN THREE ACTS. 



DRAMATIS PERSONS. 



King Phanor ... 
Prince Philamir 
Chrysal ... 

ZORAM 

ARISTiEUS 

Gelanor 

Queen Altemire 
Princess Zeolide 

Mirza 

Palmis 

Azema 



... Mr. Buckstone. 

... Mr. Kendal. 

... Mr. Everill. 

... Mr. Clark. 

... Mr. Rogers. 

... Mr. Braid. 

... Mrs. Chippendale. 

... Miss Madge Robertson. 

... Miss Caroline Hill. 

... Miss Fanny Wright. 

... Miss Fanny Gwynne. 



ACT I. 
GARDENS OF KING PHANOR' S COUNTRY HOUSE. 

MORNING. 

ACT II. 

INTERIOR OF THE PALACE OF TRUTH, 

NOON. 

ACT III. 

THE A VENUE OF PALMS. 

NIGHT. 



\The action of the piece takes place within the space of 
twenty- four hours."] 



THE PALACE OF TRUTH. 



ACT I. 

Scene. — Garden of King Phanor's Country 
House. King Phanor discovered with 
Chrysal, Zoram, Arist^us, and Palmis. 
Arista us is staiiding sulkily apart. 

As tJie curtain rises, King Phanor is finishing a 
recitation which he is accompanyhig on a man- 
dolin, in a very affected manner. 

Phanor. " Oh, I would not — no, I would not be 
there ! " 
(Zoram and Chrysal applaud vigorously^ 

Chjysal. My lord, I pray you read it once again, 
My ears are greedy for the golden sound. 

PJian. Chrysal, you make me blush ! 

Chrys. My lord, a blush 

Is modesty's sole herald — and true worth 
Is ever modest. Pray you, sir, again ! 

Phan. It's a poor thing — a string of platitudes — 

Stale metaphors — time-honored similes. 

I'm a poor poet, gentlemen ! 

267 



268 THE PALACE OF TRUTH. 

Chrys. I swear 

There never lived a poet till now ! 

Zoram. And then 

The music you have wedded to the words 
(I speak of this with some authority) • 
Shames, in its flow of rhythmic melody, 
The counterpoint of Adam de la Halle ! 

Phan. {bashfully). The merit is not altogether 
mine. 
I wrote the music — but I did not make 
This dainty instrument. Why, who could fail 
To charm, with such a mandolin as this } 

Zor. Believe me, the result would be the same, 
Whether your lordship chose to play upon 
The simple tetrachord of Mercury 
That knew no diatonic intervals. 
Or the elaborate dis-diapason 
(Four tetrachords, and one redundant note). 
Embracing in its perfect consonance 
All simple, double and inverted chords ! 

Phan. {to Chrysal). A wonderful musician — 
and a man 
Of infinite good taste ! 

Zor. Why, from my birth 

I have made melope and counterpoint 
My favorite study. 

Phan. And you really care 

To hear my work again, oh melodist } 

Zor. Again, my lord, and even then again ! 

Phan. {^recites). " When pitch-incrusted night 
aloft prevails ; 



THE PALACE OF TRUTH. 269 



" When no still goddess through the mid-air sails ; 
" When scorpions vomit forth their poisonous scum ; 
" When to the demon tryst gaunt witches come ; 
"■ When noisome pestilence stalks through the glen, 
" Bellowing forth its enmity to men ; 
" When ghastly toads scream loudly through the air ; 
" Oh, I would not — no, I would not be there ! " 

Chrys. {in raptnres). Why, where' s the cunning 
of the sorcerer 
Placed by the magic of such words as these ? 
" When pitch-incrusted night aloft prevails ; " 
Why, there's an epithet might make day night. 
And shame the swallows to their couching place ! 
" When no still goddess through the mid-air sails ! " 
Why, here's a blackness, Zoram, so intense 
It scares the very deities away ! 

Phan. {explaining). '* Still goddess " means the 
moon. 

Chrys. The moon — my lord ? 

Of course — the moon ! See how, in ignorance, 
We seek upon the surface of the wave 
For pearls that lie uncounted fathoms deep. 
The darkness frightens e'en the moon away ! 
The metaphor is perfect ! 

Phan. {annoyed). No, no, no! 

The moon has not yet risen, sir ! The moon 
Frightens the darkness — darkness don't fright her! 
Why sits the genial Aristaeus there 
All solitary .? How d'you like my work ? 
{Aside to Chrysal) We'll have some fun with him. 



270 THE PALACE OF TRUTH. 

(Aloud) Your verdict, come ! 

Arist. I'm blunt and honest. I can't teach my 
tongue 
To lie, as Zoram here, and Chrysal do. 
I tell the truth, sir. If you want to know 
My estimate of what you've given us, 
I think your poetry contemptible — 
Your melody, my lord, beneath contempt. 

Phajt. That's rather strong. 

Arist. It's strong, my lord, but true. 

I'm blunt — outspoken. If I've angered you, 
So much the worse ; I always speak the truth. 

Chrys. Heed not the yelping of this surly cur. 
Naught satisfies him, Phanor ! 

Arist. There you're wrong. 

For I was satisfied to hear it once ; 
'Twas you that wanted it a second time ! 

Chrys. Back to your kennel, sham Diogenes ! 

Arist. I'm no Diogenes. He spent his life 
Seeking an honest man. / live in courts. 

Zor. My lord, I pray you send the fellow hence, 
For he and we are always out of tune. 
An inharmonious bracketing of notes. 
Whose musical extremes don't coalesce : 
He's sharp and we are fiat. 

Arist. Extremely flat ! 

Chyrs. He's vinegar, my lord, and we are oil. 

Arist. Oil is a sickening insipid food 
Unless it's qualified with vinegar. 
I'm rough and honest. If I've angered you, 



THE PALACE OF TRUTH. 271 



I'll go. 

Phan, .No, no, you have not angered us. 
{Aside to Zoram) I like the fellow's humor — he 

may rave ! 
I'm tired of hearing truths, so let him lie ! 
But Where's Queen Altemire .? 

Chrys. My lord, she comes — 

A perfect type of perfect womanhood. 
The dew of forty summers on her head 
Has but matured her beauty, by my life ! 
For five-and-thirty years, a bud — and now 
A rose full blown ! 

Arist. Say over-blown. 

Phait. What's that t 

Arist. My lord, the Queen's too fat. 

Phan. Well, that may be. 

But don't you tell her so. Your insolence 
Amuses me — it won't amuse the Queen : 
She has no sense of humor. So take care. 

Arist. My lord, I'm rough, but honest. I've a 



tongue 



That can not frame a lie. 

Phan. But bear in mind 

Besides that very rough and hoaest tongue. 
You have a palate, and a set of teeth. 
And several delicate contrivances 
That aid digestion. Tell her she's too fat, 
And she may take offense ; and, if she does, 
She'll throw that apparatus out of work : 
That's all. 



272 THE PALACE OF TRUTH. 



Enter the Queen and Mirza. 

Good morning, Altemire, my queen. 
Why, you seem sad. 

Altem. My lord, I'm very sad. 

Palmis. The Queen is sad ! Zoram, attune your 
lyre, 
And soothe her melancholy. 

Altem. No, no, no — 

I'm not in cue for music — leave us, pray — 
I would take counsel with my lord — look, sirs, 
I am not well. 

\The three Courtiers exeunt into house. 

Phan. {aside to Palmis). Palmis, what's here 
amiss t 
What causes this .'' Have / done any thing ? 

Palmis. I know not, but I think it bears upon 
Your daughter's troth to brave Prince Philamir. 
Whenever we have spoken on the point 
She has commanded silence. 

Phan. Well, we'll see. 

Chrysal awaits you — you may go to him ; 
Talk to him of your pledge to marry him, 
And he'll not silence you. There, you may go. 

\Exit Palmis into house. 
Now what's the matter } 

Altem. Oh, I'm sick at heart 

With apprehension ! Our dear Zeolide 
To-morrow is betrothed to Philamir, 
The bravest and the most accomplished Prince 



THE PALACE OF TRUTH. 273 



In Christendom. Phanor, she loves him not ! 
Phan. What makes you think so ? 
A Item. Phanor, you are blind ! 

Why see how coldly Zeolide receives 
His songs of love — his bursts of metaphor : 
" I love you, Philamir," and there's an end. 
She will vouchsafe her spouse-elect no more — 
No tenderness — no reciprocity ; 
A cold, half-sullen and half-wayward smile, 
And that is all. The maiden lavishes 
More love upon her horse ! 

Phan. Perhaps she thinks 

Her horse will bear such tokens of regard 
With more discretion than her lover would ! 

Altem. Phanor, I tell you she loves him not. 
I am a woman, with a woman's tact. 
Phan. She says she loves him. 
Altem. So indeed she says, 

And says no more. Phanor, had I been woo'd 
With ardent songs of overwhelming love, 
Framed by so fair a poet as Philamir, 
It would have turned my giddy woman's brain, 
And thrilled my reason to its very core ! 

Phan. I never thought my wooing poetry, 
Now I begin to think it may have been. 

Mirza. Oh, sir, / love the Princess. Pause before 
You sacrifice her earthly happiness 
For sordid ends of selfish policy. 
The Prince is rich. What then } The girl is poor. 
But what is wealth of gold to wealth of love } 



274 THE PALACE OF TRUTH. 



What famine's so deplorable as his 
Who hungers for a love he can not find ? 
What luxury so wearisome as hers 
Who's surfeited with love she values not ? 
Kine Phanor, let the Princess be released ! 

Ahem. My lady Mirza, you forget yourself ! 

Mirza. I do forget myself, rememb'ring her ; 
I have her happiness at heart. The maid 
Is more than life to me. Forgive me, Queen. 
I could not help but speak. 

Phait. Well, say no more. 

I'll question her, and if it then appears 
She loves not Philamir, she shall be free. 
I also love the girl — but, here she comes. 
I'll find some test which shall decide the point. 

{Exit Phanor into house. 

Enter Zeolide. 

Altem. My daughter, where's the Prince t 

Zeo. I can not say ; 

I saw his highness yesterday, but since 
Have not set eyes on him. 

Altem. Has he returned 

From hunting } 

Zeo. Yes, I heard the Prince's voice 

Not half an hour ago. 

Altem. And, in return. 

You made no sign to him } 

Zeo. No sign, indeed. 

I heard his song — 'twas very sweetly sung, 



THE PALACE OF TRUTH. 275 



It told of love — it called for no reply. 

Alteni. A song of love that called for no reply ? 

Zeo. It asked no question, mother. 

Alteon. Surely, girl, 

There may be questions that are not expressed. 

Zeo. And answers, mother — mine was one of 
them ! 

AlUin. Come, Zeolide, I've much to say to you. 
Renounce Prince Philamir ere 'tis too late ! 
He will release you ; he is proud and brave, 
And would not force a hated life on you. 
Come, Zeolide, throw off this weary bond, 
And marry whom you love, or marry none ! 

Zeo. As I am bound, dear mother, I'll remain, 
So let me stay with Mirza. 

A/Um. {annoyed). You can stay ! 

\Exit Queen Altemire into house, glancing 
angrily at Mirza ; Zeolide notices this with 
some surprise. 

Zeo. Why, Mirza, how my mother frowns at you ! 
How have you angered her } 

Mirza. I love you well ; 

And when I told her of my sister-love. 
In words more passionate than politic. 
The Queei;! rebuked me sternly. 

Zeo. Oh, for shame ! 

Mirza. She is your mother, and she claims your 
love. 
And can not brook that I should share that love. 
I can forgive the noble jealousy 



276 THE PALACE OF TRUTH. 

That comes of woman's love for woman. 

Zeo, Yes ; 

.For you are Mirza — queen of womankind — 
The best, the noblest woman in the world ! 

Mirza. Why, here is warmth ! and people call 
you cold 
Because you are so cold to Philamir. 

Zeo. Why, Mirza, he's a man ! . 

Enter Philamir from house — he overhears Mirza. 

Mirza. A man indeed ! 

The bravest warrior that wields a sword ; 
The rarest poet that ever penned a lay ; 
An admirable knight — gay, handsome, young, 
Brave, wealthy, and accomplished — with a tongue 
Might shame a siren's ! 

Zeo. Hush ! a siren's tongue 

Is not renowned for much sincerity. 

Mirza. He is sincere. 

Zeo. Indeed, I hope he is ! 

Phil, {coming forward). I thank you. Lady Mirza, 
for those words. 

Mirza {coldly). I little thought that they were 
overheard. 
This is ungenerous, Prince Philamir. 

^Bows coldly and exit ; Philamir rnshes to 
Zeolide, who receives him very quietly. 

Phil. Dear Zeolide, at last we are alone ! 
Oh, I have longed for this ! 

Zeo. Indeed ! And why } 



THE PALACE OF TRUTH. 277 

Phil. And why ? We can converse without 
reserve. 

Zeo. What should I say when we are quite alone 
That I should leave unsaid were others here ? 
I can but say, " I love you," Philamir. 

Phil. And is that all ? 

Zeo. And is not that enough ? 

Phil. All the world knows you love me ! 

Zeo. That is why 

I do not blush to own it in the world. 

Phil. But give me more — / love youy Zeolide, 
As the earth loves the sun ! 

Zeo. The earth is glad 

To see the sun, and asks no more than that. 
You would do well to imitate the earth. 

Phil. I am content to imitate the earth — 
I am content to sit and gaze at you, 
Tranced in a lazy glow of happiness ; 
But if you speak and wake me from that trance, 
Wake me, dear Zeolide, with warmer words. 
" I love you ! " Why I know you love me well ! 
Say nothing, Zeolide, and I'm content. 
If you say any thing, say more than that ! 

Zeo. What words could I employ which, tested in 
The crucible of unimpassioned truth. 
Would not resolve themselves into those three 1 
Now I must go — your sun's about to set — 
So farewell earth !_ 

Phil. And when the sun is down 

The earth is inconsolable ! 
24 



278 THE PALACE OF TRUTH. 

Zeo. Until 

The moon appears ! Perhaps there is a moon 
That fills my place until I rise again ? 

Phil. No moon, dear Zeolide ; or, if there be, 
She floats in one perpetual eclipse ! 

Zeo. The moon is not the less a moon because 
The earth thinks fit to hide her from the sun ! 

Phil. Nay ; you pursue the metaphor too far. 
If I, the earth, conceal a nightly moon, 
Why you, the sun, have many worlds to warm, 
And some are nearer to you than this earth ! 

Zeo. Hush, Philamir ! I'm ready to believe 
That you're an earth that knows no moon at all. 
If you'll allow that I, although a sun, 
Consent to warm no other world than this ! 

(Kissing his forehead, ajid going. 

Phil. Oh, do not leave me thus, dear Zeolide. 
I am a beggar, begging charity ; 
Throw me more coin that bears the stamp of love ! 

Zeo. I have one coin that bears that holy stamp — 
I give you that — I have no more to give. 

Phil. Tell me its value, then, in words of love ! 

Zeo. What ! would you have me advertise my 
alms. 
And trumpet forth my largess to the world } 

Phil Not to the world, dear Zeolide — to me ! 

Zeo. Ah, you would have me say " You are my 
world ! " 
You see, I have the trick of ardent speech, 
And I could use it, were I so disposed. 



THE PALACE OF TRUTH. 279 

But surely, Philamir, the mendicant 
Who is not satisfied to take my alms 
Until he knows how much that alms be worth, 
Can scarcely stand in need of alms at all ! 
I love you, Philamir — be satisfied. 
Whose vows are made so earnestly as hers 
Who would deceive you by her earnestness ? 
Why, if I sought to trick you, Philamir, 

I should select such phrases for my end 

So passionate — and yet so delicate, 
So fierce — from overflow of gentle love, 
So furious — from excess of tenderness, 
That even your expressions of regard. 
Unbounded in their hot extravagance, 
Would pale before the fury of my words, 
And you, from very shame, would call them back. 
And beg my pardon for their want of warmth ! 
I love you, Philamir — I'll say no more ! {Exit. 

Phil. Gone ! But I'll follow her {going). 

Enter Phanor from house. 

Phan. Stop, Philamir, 

If, as she says, she loves you, well and good ; 
She'll give you proof of it in her good time ; 
But if she don't, why take an old boy's word 
(Who speaks of love with some authority), 
She'll love you none the better for the warmth 
That prompts you to perpetual persecution. 
The girl has taken this road — take you that. 

[Philamir stands irresolute ^ then goes off sloivlyy 
in the direction indicated. 



28o THE PALACE OF TRUTH. 

That's good advice ! 

Enter Queen Altemire from house. 

Altein. My lord, old Gelanor, 

The steward of your palace, has arrived, 
And waits without. 

Phaii. We'll see him presently. 

A Item, {with so7ne hesitatioii). Now, do you know, 
I often wonder why, 
Possessing such a palace, furnished with 
The rarest luxuries that wealth can buy, 
You hold your Court in this secluded place 1 
I have been married to you eighteen years, 
Yet I have never seen this palace, which 
Stands barely twenty miles away, and which 
You visit regularly once a month. 

Phan. {rather confused). There are good reasons, 
Altemire. 

A Item, {angry). No doubt ! 
Exceedingly good reasons ! When a man 
Maintains a bachelor establishment, 
He has the best of reasons to decline 
To take his wife there ! 

Phan. You're a jealous fool. 

Altem. Jealous I am, and possibly a fool. 
But not a fool for being jealous. 

PJian. Peace, 

And I will tell you why I take you not. 
That palace is enchanted. Every one 
Who enters there is bound to speak the truth — 



THE PALACE OF TRUTH. 281 

The simple, unadulterated truth. 

To every question that is put to him 

He must return the unaffected truth, 

And strange to say, while publishing the truth 

He's no idea that he is doing so ; 

And while he lets innumerable cats 

Out of unnumbered bags, he quite believes 

That all the while he's tightening the strings 

That keep them from a too censorious world. 

What do you say to that ? 

Alt em. {amazed). Say ? Would the world 

Were one such palace, Phanor ! 

Pha7t. If it were, 

At least we all should meet on equal terms ; 
But to be taken from a world in which 
That influence don't exist, and to be placed 
Inside a fairy palace where it does 
(Accompanied, moreover, by one's wife). 
Might take one at a disadvantage ! 

Altem. Well, 

I am prepared to undergo the test 
If you'll accompany me, 

Phan. No, no, no ! 

You are a worthy woman, Altemire, 
But, Altemire, you have your faults ! 

Altem. My lord, 

I am a woman ! 

PJiaii. Yes, exactly so ; 

If you were not a woman, Altemire, 

Or, being one, were some one else's wife, 

24* 



282 THE PALACE OF TRUTH. 

I'd take you there to-morrow ! 

A It em. But, my lord, 

Why won't you take me, being what I am ? 

Phan. Because, my wife, I don't know what you 
are. 

Altem. You know, at least, that I'm a faithful 
wife. 

Phan. I think you're more than faithful. I believe 
You are a perfect woman, Altemire, 
A pattern as a mother and a wife — 
And, so believing, why I do not care 
To run the risk of being undeceived ! 

Altem. {annoyed). My lord, you are unjust ! Can 
you believe 
I should expose myself to such a test 
Had I been guilty of unfaithfulness t 
I am no perfect woman, Phanor. I have faults 
That advertise themselves. No need to say 
That I'm quick-tempered, jealous, over-prone 
To underrate the worth of womankind — 
Impetuous — unreasonable — vain — 
I am a woman, with a woman's faults. 
But, being woman, Phanor, I'm a wife ; 
And, in that I am one, I need not blush. 
You have some better reason. Possibly 
You dread the palace on your own account "i 

Phan. I dread the palace, Altemire 1 No, no. 
I am a child of impulse. All my faults 
Lie on the surface. I have naught to hide. 
Such little faults *as sully me you know. 



THE PALACE OF TRUTH, 283 



A Item. Or guess. 

Phan. Ha ! Am I then to understand 

My Queen suspects her husband ? 

Altem. Yes, you are ! 

Phan. Then this decides me. You shall go with 
me. 

Altem. But 

Phajt. Not a word — King Phanor can not brook 
The breath of jealousy. With all his faults 
His married life has been as pure as snow. 
We two will go this morning. 

Altem. Stay ! A thought ! 

Let us take Zeolide and Philamir, 
They shall not know the fairy influence 
To which they are subjected. If the maid 
Does not love Philamir, she'll show it then, 
And the betrothal can be canceled. If 
She loves him, why, she'll show it all the more : 
Then the betrothal shall be ratified. 

Phan. We will take Zeolide and Philamir, 
Chrysal and Zoram — Aristaeus too, 
•And Palmis — yes, and blameless Lady Mirza^- 
Mirza, the good, the beautiful, the pure ! 

Altem. Mirza! Eternal Mirza! Everywhere 
I hear her irritating virtues praised ! 
I'm weary of the woman ! 

Pha7z. Stop a bit. 

Till we are in the palace. Then we'll learn 
Not only your opinion of her worth, 
But also why you hold it. 



284 THE PALACE OF TRUTH. 

A Item. Well, well, well ! 

The maid is young and beautiful, and I 
Am envious of that youth and beauty. See, 
I can anticipate the influence 
To which I'm going to subject myself. 
There I was wrong. Mirza shall go with us, 
And by her conduct under such a test, 
Prove the injustice of my estimate. 
I'll go and warn the Court. 

[^Exit Queen Altemire into house. 

Phan. The course I take 

Is rather rash, but the experiment 
Will not be destitute of interest. 

Enter Gelanor from house. 

Well, Gdanor, what tidings do you bring ? 
About our palace } 

Gelan. Sir, the old, old tale. 

Men come and go — and women come and go. 
Although the palace gates are opened wide 
To rich and poor alike — and rich and poor 
Alike receive full hospitality 
For any length of time they care to stay, 
Few care to stay above a day or two. 
Free entertainment in a princely home 
Is little valued when it's coupled with 
The disadvantage of a dwelling-place 
Where every one is bound to speak the truth. 
When does my lord propose to start .-* 

PJian. To-day. 



THE PALACE OF TRUTH. 285 



But this time not alone, good Gelanor. 

Gelan. And who is to accompany you, sir ? 
Phmi. My wife. 
Gdan. Your wife ? 

Phan. My wife. 

Gilaii. Great heavens, my lord, 

Have you reflected 1 

Phan. Yes. 

Gelan. To any place 

Where one is bound to speak the baldest truth 
Concerning all the actions of one's life, 
It's hardly politic to take one's wife ! 

Pha7i. Oh, I've the fullest confidence in her. 
She's a good woman, Gelanor. 

Gelan. Ah» sir, 

I have seen married couples by the score, 
Who, when they passed within our crystal walls. 
Have boldly advertised themselves prepared 
To stake their souls upon each other's faith — 
But who, before they've spent an hour at most 
Under the castle's mystic influence, 
Have separated ne'er to meet again ! 
Oh, have a care ! 

Phan. Queen Altemire knows all. 

And knowing all she fears not for herself, 
So I've no fear for her ! 

Gelan. But you, my liege — 

How -^iW yoic bear yourself 'neath such a test.? 
You have been married nearly eighteen years : 
That's a long time ! 



286 THE PALACE OF TRUTH, 

Enter Mirza, unobserved. 

Phan. Well, yes — I've thought of that. 

I'm a good husband — as good husbands go. 
I love my wife — but still — you understand — 
Boys will be boys ! There is s. point or two — 
Say two, as being nearer to the mark — 
On which I do not altogether care 
To stand examination by my wife. 
Perhaps I may have given out that I've 
Been dining ^^r^ — when I've been dining t/iere — 
I may have said " with A " — when 'twas with B — 
I may have said " with /ii7n " — when 'twas with 

/ler — 
Distinctions such as these, good Gelanor, 
Though strangely unimportant in themselves, 
Still have a value, which the female mind's 
Particularly quick to apprehend. 
Now here's a talisman — a crystal box — (^produ- 
cing it). 
Whoever carries this within those walls 
May overcome the castle's influence, 
And utter truth or falsehood as he wills. 
I should do well, I think, to take this box } 

Gelan. From all accounts, my lord, I think you 
would ! 
{Sees Mirzd) Ahem ! We are observed ! 

Mirza. My lord, I trust 

My presence here is not inopportune t 
I will withdraw. 



THE PALACE OF TRUTH. 287 



Phan. No, Lady Mirza, no ! 

I was exhibiting to Gelanor 
A curious specimen of crystal work — 
He understands such things. 

Mirza {takmg box). And so do I. 

How marvelously pure ! No single flaw 
Affects its exquisite transparency ! 
A perfect emblem of a spotless life ! 

Gelan. But, Lady Mirza, perfect spotlessness 
Is apt to smack of insipidity. 

Mirza. No — hold it to the light, and see the 
change ! 
See how its exquisite prismatic hues, 
Under the influence of searching light, 
Are instantly made clear and manifest. 
As shines this crystal in the sun, so shines 
A perfect woman in the light of truth. 
The modest beauties of a spotless life 
Remain unknown and unsuspected, till 
A ray of truth-light starts them into life, 
And shows them — all unwilling — to the world ! 

Gelan. But there are hidden qualities of soul 
That even truth can not detect. Suppose 
This crystal, peerless in its spotlessness. 
Turned out to be a potent talisman. 
With power to work all kinds of devilry } 
There are such things ! 

Phan. {aside). Why there are women, too 

(I have known many such), to whom the box 
Might still be very properly compared ! 



288 THE PALACE OF TRUTH, 

Mtj'za. Impossible, my lord. I'll not believe 
That aught so beautiful could be so base. 
(Returning it) I thank you, sir. I've read a lesson 

here 
That I shall take good heed to profit by. 

Enter the Queen Altemire, with Zeolide, 
Phanor, ARIST.EUS, ZoRAM, and Palmis, 
from house. 

Altem. Here comes your Court, my lord. 

Phan. That's well. My friends, 

I have a palace, twenty miles away — 
A lovely place, engirt with crystal walls ; 
Its grounds will show fair flowers and shady groves, 
Huge forest trees, rare fountains, hill and dale. 
There's hunting, fishing — eighteen years pre- 
served ! 
There the sun shines unclouded all day long. 
What say you — will you go } 

Chiys. Go ? What care I 

Whether it rain or shine so that I may 
Bask in the sunshine of my King and Queen ! 

Phan. In half an hour we start. Once there, our 
life 
Shall be a song, and Aristaeus here, 
The jolly, genial, laughing Aristaeus, 
Shall strike the key-note ! 

Arist. Well, I'll do my best. 

Zor. But pray consider. If the intervals 
Throughout the diatonic series, sir, 



THE PALACE OF TRUTH. 289 

Were mathematically equal, why 
It would not greatly matter, as you know, 
Upon what note your melody commenced. 
But as it is not so, we must respect 
The intervals the melody demands. 
No key-note struck by Aristseus could 
Be correspondent with those intervals ! 

Phil, ril give the key-note. We will pass the day 
By quivering willows at the waterside. 
Lapped in a lazy luxury of love ! 
There we'll forget the world of work-a-day, 
And crown our happiness with songs of love ! 
What say you, dearest Zeolide .<* 

Zeo. I've said 

As much as it is maidenly to say — 
I love you, Philamir — be satisfied ! 



ACT II. 

Scene. — Interior of the Palace of TriLtJi. 

Enter Gelanor, meeting King Phanor and Queen 
Altemire and Zeolide. 

Gdan. Welcome, my lord ! Madam, I humbly 
trust 
The palace realizes all the hopes 
That you had entertained concerning it. 

Altem. Indeed, it far exceeds them, Gelanor. 
There is no lovelier abode on earth ! 
25 



290 THE PALACE OF TRUTH. 

And so says Zeolide. 

Zeo. Indeed she does ! 

Why, father, I have lived near eighteen years, 
And never knew until three hours ago 
That you possessed so lovely a domain ! 
Why have I wasted eighteen years on earth, 
When such a heaven as this awaited me ? 

Gelait. {aside to Phanor). You have not told the 
Princess or your Court 
The palace's peculiarity ? 

Phan. Not I. The secret is our own, as yet — 
The Queen's, and yours, and mine. 

Gelan. With you and me 

The secret's safe. But then — Queen Altemire — 
If you have told her all 

Phan. No, no — not all ! 

Here is a secret which is yours and mine ; 

{prodtccing crystal box) 
And yours and mine the secret shall remain. 
Protected by this talisman, I stand, 
A sturdy rock amid the shifting sands — 
A salamander in a world of fire — 
Achilles in a crowd of myrmidons — 
Achilles, with an iron-plated heel ! 
Go, send my courtiers — I anticipate 
No ordinary sport from watching them. 

\Exeunt Gelanor and Phanor. 

Altem. What are you reading, Zeolide } 

Zeo. {with scroll). A song 

Written by Chrysal set to Zoram's notes ; 



THE PALACE OF TRUTH, 291 



They gave it me before we left our home, 
But in the hurry of the journey here, 
I managed to mislay it — here it is. 

Enter Zoram, Chrysal, mid Arist^us. 

And here are author and composer, too — 
And Critic, teeming with humanity. 
Come let us hear it. 

(Zeolide sings a song. At its conclusion 
Chrysal and Zoram applaud) 
Chrys. {coming forward with all the action of a 
man who is expressing extreme approval). 
Oh, I protest, my ears have never heard 
A goodly song more miserably sung. 
(Clapping hands) Oh, very poor indeed — oh, very 

weak, 
No voice — no execution — out of tune — 
Pretentious too — oh, very, very poor ! {Applauding 
as if in ecstacies) 
Altem. {amused). Indeed! I think I've often 
heard you say 
No voice could rival Princess Zeolide s ? 

Chrys. {enthusiastically). I've often said so — I 
have praised her voice. 
Because I am a courtier — paid to praise. 
I never meant one word of what I said ; 
I have the worst opinion of her voice, 
And so has Zoram. 

2qj^^ I ? Oh, dear me, no ! 

I can form no opinion on the point. 



292 THE PALACE OF TRUTH. 

I am no judge of music. 

Chrys. Eh ? 

Zor. Not I ! 

I hardly know the treble from the bass, 
And as to harmony — I know the word, 
But hang me if I guess at what it means ! 

Zeo. Oh, Zoram, you are jesting — why you wrote 
The air I sung! 

Zor. I wrote the air ? Not I, 

I paid a poor musician for his work, 
And palmed it off upon you as my own. 
A common trick with melodists who stand 
Far hiofher in the world's esteem than I ! 

O 

Altem. Well, Aristaeus there has still to speak. 
What says that rollicking philosopher 1 
Come, growl it out ! 

Arist. {gi'iiffly, as if finding faulty It's sweetly 
pretty, ma'am, 
And very nicely sung. I like it much. 

Zeo. What ! Aristseus pleased } 

Arist. {very savagely). Of course I am ; 

I'm always pleased with every thing. 

Altem. Indeed ! 

Men look on Aristaeus as a man 
Whom nothing satisfies. 

Arist. {with outrageous blmitness). Then men are 
wrong, 
No child's more easily amused than I. 
But, here at Court, where every one is pleased 
With every thing, my amiability 



THE PALACE OE TRUTH. 293 

Would go for naught ; so I have coined myself 

A disposition foreign to my own, 

In hopes my clumsy boorish insolence 

Might please you by its very novelty ; 

And prove, perchance, a not unwelcome foil 

To Zoram's mockery of cultured taste, 

And Chrysal's chronic insincerity ! 

I'm rough and honest, frank — outspoken — blunt. 

Chrys. Boor ! when you dare to say I'm insincere 
You tell the truth — there, make the most of that ! 

Zor. Chrysal, your hand ; I'm glad to find at last 
Your eyes are opened to your many faults. 

Chrys. How, sir, is this intentional affront 1 

Zor. No, not intentional. I tried to frame 
A pleasant speech, but, by some awkward slip, 
The truth escaped me quite against my will. 
( With great admiratioii) You systematic liar ! 

Chrys. Insolent ! 

Zor. Sir ! 

CJirys. This shall cost or you or me his life. 

In half an hour you shall hear from me ! 

\Exit Chrysal. 

Zor. {in terror). What have I said } 

Altem. {aside). These boobies must not fight, 
But how to stop them .-* Here comes Philamir ! 
Now he and Zeolide can meet. But first 
I must get rid of Zoram. {To Zoram). Get you 

hence, 
I will contrive to pacify your foe. 

Zor. But 

25* 



294 THE PALACE OF TRUTH. 

Altem. Go ! 

Zor. {piteottsly). I'm sure I don't know what I've 
done ! 

S^Exetmt ZoRAM and Queen Altemire. 

Enter Philamir, — Zeolide runs to him and em- 
braces him — he turns away. 

Zeo. My love, is Philamir unhappy ? 

Phil. Yes. 

I have heard people talking of our troth, 
And prophesying that it will soon cease. 

Zeo. Indeed ! They think you do not love me, 
then .? 

Phil. They doubt not that — they doubt your 
love for me. 
Some say it sleeps ; some say that it is dead ; 
Some that it never lived. Oh, Zeolide, 
If love for Philamir is yet unborn, 
Why bring it now to light ! Where will you find 
A fitter nursery for love than this } 
If that love lives, but sleeps, why wake it now 
And let it revel in these golden groves. 
If it is dead, why here's a paradise 
That well might summon it to second life ! 

Zeo. It sleeps not, Philamir, nor is it dead, 
It lives and can not die. 

Phil. But people say 

That love should advertise itself in words 
More fervid than the weary formula, 
" I love you, Philamir." You love your friends. 



THE PALACE OF TRUTH. 295 



Why, Zeolide, I think I've heard you say 
You love your horse ! 

Zco. Unjust ! You ask me, then, 

To Hmit my illimitable love, 
And circle, with a boundary of words, 
A wealth of love that knows no bounds at all ! 
There is a love that words may typify — 
A mere material love — that one may weigh 
As jewelers weigh gold. Such love is worth 
The gold one pays for it — it's worth no more. 
Why, Philamir, I might as well attempt 
To set a price upon the universe — 
Or measure space — or time eternity. 
As tell my love in words ! 

Phil {astonished). Why, Zeolide, 
At last you speak ! Why this, indeed, is love ! 
Zeo. {aside). What have I said .? {Aloud and 
coldly) Indeed, I'm glad to think 
My words have pleased you ! 

Phil, {with ent/msiasm). Pleased me .? They've 
done more — 
They've gratified my vanity, and made 
Me feel that I am irresistible ! 
Zeo. Indeed ! 

Phil. Indeed, dear Zeolide, they have. 

Why how you frown ! 

Zeo. {coldly). If such a love as mine 

Serves but to feed your sense of vanity, 
I think it is misplaced. 

Phil. My vanity 



296 THE PALACE OF TRUTH. 



Must needs be feci, and with such love as yours. 

I have worked hard to gain it, Zeohde ! 

You are not nearly as attractive as 

Five hundred other ladies I could name, 

Who, when I said I loved them, stopped my lips — 

Zco. {astonished). I'm glad they did ! 

Phil. With kisses, ere I could 

Repeat the sentence ; and it hurt me much 
That you, who are comparatively plain, 
Should give me so much trouble, Zeolide. 

Zeo. {aside). What can he mean ? {Aloud) Oh, 
you are mocking me 

Phil. Mocking you, Zeolide ? You do me wrong ! 
( With enthusiasvt) Oh, place the fullest value on 

my words, 
And you'll not overvalue them ! I swear, 
As I'm a Christian knight, I speak the truth ! 

Zeo. Why, Philamir, you've often told me that 
You never loved a woman till we met ! 

Phil, {zuith all the appearance of rapture). I al- 
w^ays say that. I have said the same 
To all the women that I ever woo'd ! 

Zeo. And they believ'd you } 

Phil. Certainly they did. 

They always do ! Whatever else they doubt. 
They don't doubt that ! {He tries to embrace her.) 

Zeo. {horror-stntck). Away, and touch me not ! 

Phil. What .? Has my earnestness offended you. 
Or do you fear that my impassioned speech 
Is over-colored } Trust me, Zeolide, 



THE PALACE OF TRUTH. 297 

If it be over-charged with clumsy love, 

Or teem with ill-selected metaphor, 

It is because my soul is not content 

To waste its time in seeking precious stones, 

When paste will answer every end as well ! 

Zco. Why, Philamir, dare you say this to me ? 

Phil. All this, and more than thi3, I dare to say. 
I dare to tell you that I like you much. 
For you are amiable, refined, and good — 
Saving a little girlish diffidence 
I have no serious fault to find with you ! 

Zeo. You're very good ! 

Phil. Indeed, I think I am, 

But let that pass. In truth I like you much. 
At first I loved you in an off-hand way ! 

Zco. At first .? 

Phil. Until the novelty wore off. 

And then, receiving but a cold response 
To all the seeming fury of my love. 
My pride was nettled, and I persevered 
Until I made you tell me of your love, 
In words that bore comparison with mine. 
I've done that, and I'm amply satisfied. 

Zco. {ill blank astonishme7tt). And this is Phila- 
mir, who used to breathe 
Such words of passion and such songs of love ! 
Those words that fiercely burnt with such false fire, 
Those songs that sung so lovingly of lies. 
Bore unsuspected fruit — I gathered it 
And garnered it away. Oh, Philamir, 



298 THE PALACE OF TRUTH. 

As misers store up gold, I stored my love 

In all the inmost corners of my heart, 

Dreading to speak or look at Philamir, 

Lest some unguarded word or tell-tale glance 

Should give a clew to all the wealth within ! 

I laughed within myself, as misers laugh. 

To find my hoard increasing day by day. 

And now — the coin I hoarded up is base — 

The flowers that decked my life are worthless 

weeds — 
The fruit I plucked is withered at the core — 
And all my wealth has faded into air ! 

Phil. Faded ? Why, Zeolide, what do you mean ? 
I do not love you as a lover should, 
Yet you reproach me ! Oh, you are unjust. 

Zco. Indeed, I'll not reproach you ! Let me go. 
My grief shall be as silent as my love. 
P'arewell ! \Exit. 

Phil. That woman's mad ! Unquestionably mad ! 
My show of love has sent her brain adrift. 
Poor girl ! I really like her very much. 
I tell her that I love her — and in words 
Which never yet were known to miss their mark 
When uttered by Prince Philamir — in words 
So charged with passion that they well might charm 
The very proudest maid in Christendom ; 
And off she bounces as indignantly 
As if I'd told the very plainest truth ! 



THE PALACE OF TRUTH. 299 

. Enter Chrysal. 

Chrys. Your Royal Highness seems disturbed. 

Phil. I am ! 

I'm much annoyed with Princess Zeolide. 
You know how coldly she has hitherto 
Received the protestations of my love ? 

CJirys. {^politely). I do indeed. You've been the 
laughing-stock 
Of all the Court for months on that account. 

Phil, {amazed). Oh, have I so.-* 

Chrys. Upon my soul, you have. 

PJiil. You're candid, sir. 

Chrys. {still as if paying a complimejtt). I can 
afford to be 
Extremely candid with Prince Philamir. 
But let that pass. You were reminding me 
How coldly Princess Zeolide received 
Your vows. What then } 

Phil. Why, not ten minutes since 
Her manner changed, and all her pent-up love 
Burst from her lips in frenzied eloquence. 
I was astounded ! — I, of course, began 
To echo all her sentiments ten-fold. 
I picked the very fairest flowers that grow 
Upon the dreamy plains of metaphor, 
And showered them upon her. White with rage 
She started from me — telling me, with tears. 
Her dream of love had melted into air ! 
I see you don't believe me, Chrysal 



300 THE PALACE OE TRUTH. 

Chrys. Well, 

I half believe you. I can scarcely think 
The Princess spoke with rapture of your love ; 
But I can quite believe that when you spoke 
In what you're pleased to think is metaphor, 
The well-bred Princess shrank instinctively 
From such a florid prince as Philamir 

i(Lvith a respectful how). 

Phil. (JiaiLgJuily). This form of compliment is 
new to me ! 

Chrys. My lord, my speciality consists 
In framing novel forms of compliment. 
But who comes here — a modest little maid — 

Efzier Azema — she starts on seeing Philamir and 

Chrysal. 

And rather pretty too. 

Phil, {angrily). She hears you, sir ! 
{Politely to Azema) I fear v/e've frightened you } 

Azhna. Oh no, indeed, 

I am not frightened, though I seem to be. 

(Azema' s manner is characterized by the ex- 
tremest modesty and timidity through- 
out this scene}} 
Chrys. But why affect a fear you do not feel .-* 
Azhna {with extre7ne timidity). Because, although 
I entered here to seek 
Prince Philamir, I'm anxious he should think 
This meeting is a simple accident. 
Do not suppose that this is modesty. 



THE PALACE OF TRUTH. 301 

'Tis but an artifice to make you think 
That I am timid as a startled fawn ! 

Chrys. {aside to Phil amir). This is a character. 
I'll open fire 
And storm her weakest point — her vanity. 
Now, my artillery of compliments, 
A salvo, if you please. {Aloud, with the air of one 
who is payiizg an elaborate compliineni) I 
have remarked 
That you've a certain girlish prettiness, 
Although your nose is sadly underbred. 
{Aside) That's rather neat ! 

Azhna, Are you Prince Philamir 1 

Chrys. Not I, indeed, fair lady. This is he — 
The most conceited coxcomb in the world {with an 
elaborate bow to Philamir, who starts angrily). 
No thanks — indeed 'tis true. 

Azhna {to Chrysal). Then go your way — 

I don't want you ! I only want the prince. 
'Twas Philamir I came to captivate. 

Chrys. Here's candor if you like ! 

Azhna. Oh, leave us, sir ! 

Find some excuse to go, that he and I 
May be alone together. 

Phil. Leave me, sir. 

ril give your tongue a lesson ere the night ! 

Chrys. How has my tongue offended } — Oh, I 
see — 
Exactly — don't explain ! {Aside) Poor Zeolide ! 

\Exit. 



302 THE PALACE OF TRUTH. 

Phil. Insolent scoundrel ! {^ following him.) 

Azhna. Oh, don't follow him. 

I want you here alone. You can begin — 
I am not shy, though I appear to be. 
Indeed, I entered here ten minutes since, 
Because I heard from those outside the gates, 
That you, Prince Philamir, had just arrived. 

Phil. Then you're a stranger here 1 

Azhna. I am, indeed ! 

The people told me any one was free 
To enter. 

PJiil. Yes, quite right. Did they say more .'* 

Azhna. Oh, yes, much more. They told me, then, 
that you 
Received but sorry treatment at the hands 
Of Princess Zeolide. They told me, too, 
That your betrothal might ere long collapse ; 
( With extreme modesty) So thought I, as I am be- 
yond dispute 
The fairest maid for many a mile around — 
And as, moreover, I possess the gift 
Of feigning an enchanting innocence, 
I possibly may captivate the prince, 
And fill the place once filled by Zeolide. 

{Sits ; her ankle is exposed") 

Phil. The Princess has a candid enemy ! 
I beg your pardon, but the furniture 
Has caught your dress. 
Azhna {re-arrajtging her dress hastily) Oh, I 
arranged it so, 



THE PALACE OF TRUTH. 303 



That you might see how truly beautiful 
My foot and ankle are {as if much shocked at the 
expose). 
Phil, I saw them well, 

They're very neat. 

Azhna. I now remove my glove 

That you may note the whiteness of my hand. 
I place it there in order that you may 
Be tempted to inclose it in your own. 

Phil. To that temptation I at once succumb. 

{Taking her hand— she affects to withdraw 
it angrily) 
Azhna {with affected indignation) Go on ! If 
you had any enterprise, 
You'd gently place your arm around my waist 
And kiss me. {Struggling to release herself) 
Phil. It might anger you ! 

Azhna. Oh, no ! 

It's true that I should start with every show 
Of indignation, just in order to 
Maintain my character for innocence — 
But that is all. 

Phil, {puts his ann romid her and kisses her). 

There, then — 'tis done ! 
Azhna {starting, with a great show of rage) . How, 
sir } 
I think it's time that I should take my leave. 
{Very indignantly) I shall be in the Avenue of 

Palms 
At ten o'clock to-night. I mention this 



304 THE PALACE OF TRUTH. 



That you may take the hint and be there, too ! 

{going) 
Phil. One moment, pray. Let me assure you 
now. 
That such an unmistakable coquette, 
And one who shows her cards so candidly. 
Will not supplant the Princess Zeolide ! 

Azhna {sttrpiHsed). Supplant the Princess Zeo- 
lide ? Why, sir. 
By what authority do you imply 
That I have cherished any such design ? 
Phil. Your own admission. 
Azhna. Oh, impossible ! 

{Indignantly) But as it seems that I've no chance 

with you, 
I'll try the gentleman who left us here. 
He comes ! 

Enter Chrysal. 

Oh, sir, I crave a word with you ! 
Are you a wealthy man } {with extreme delicacy of 
manner) 

Chrys. I am, indeed. 

Azhna. And you've a title 1 

Chrys. Yes, of highest rank. 

Azhna. A bachelor } 

Chrys. A bachelor as yet. 

Betrothed to Palmis. 

Azhna {shrinking). Oh ! {Hopefully) But possibly 
You do not love her much ! 



THE PALACE OF TRUTH. 305 

Clirys. {zuiih entJmsiasni), Oh, not at all ! 
Azhiia. You'll do — give me your arm. {He does 

so — she sJu'inks^ Oh, sir, indeed 

{Impatiently to Chrysal, who hesitates) Do take 

rny hand and put it through your arm. 
{He does so) That's it ! Oh, sir, indeed I know you 
not! 
. [Exeunt Chrysal afzd Azema, — Azema affect- 
ing to try and release herself, Philamir 
stands astounded for a moment. 
Phil. I've found a clew that solves these myste- 
ries ! 
This palace is enchanted ground ! It's plain 
That there's some subtle influence at work, 
Affecting everybody here — but me ! 
Chrysal, the honey-tongued, turns out to be 
A blunt and scurrilous outspoken boor ; 
Zoram, the musical enthusiast. 
Can hardly tell the treble from the bass ; 
Then Aristaeus, surly, blunt and gruff. 
Turns out to be the gentlest soul alive ; 
And, most inexplicable change of all. 
The amiable but prudish Zeolide 
Becomes a foolish vixen, blind with love. 
Maddened with jealous and unreasoning rage ! 
Then comes a girl — a commonjDlace coquette — • 
Who, while she lays her plans with practiced skill. 
Explains their aim, and holds them to the light 
That all may see their arrant hollowness ! 
It's evident there's some enchantment here 



3o6 THE PALACE OF TRUTH. 

That shows up human nature as it is, 
And I alone resist its influence ! 
Ah, here is Mirza — lovely paragon — 
I'll notice how it operates on her. 

Enter Mirza. 

Mirza {starts). I beg your pardon. I was look- 
ing for 
My diary ; I've dropped it hereabouts. 

Phil. Allow me to assist you in your search ? 

Mirza {hastily). No, no ; that must not be. My 
diary 
Must ne'er be seen by other eyes than mine ! 

Phil Indeed ! and why } 

Mirza. My very inmost thoughts — 

The secret utterances of my heart — 
Are there inscribed. I would not for my life, 
That any eyes but mine should rest on it. 

Phil. Can Lady Mirza harbor any thought 
That all the world may not participate .'* 
I'll not believe it. 

Mirza {eagerly). Hush — I charge you, sir ! 
Ask me no questions here — for I have learnt 
That this is fairy ground, where every one 
Is bound, against his will, to speak the truth. 
•If you interrogate me, I am bound 
To answer truly. I need say no more 
To such a courteous knight as Philamir. 

Phil, {aside). It is then as I thought ! {Aloud) 
I guessed the truth — 



THE PALACE OF TRUTH. 307 



This palace doubtless is enchanted ground, 
And I alone resist its influence ! 

Mirza. Indeed ! 

Phil. I had occasion some time since 

To feign unbounded love for Zeolide 
(For whom I don't particularly care) : 
Well, notwithstanding my indifference, 
I spoke with all my usual gush of love, 
From which I venture to conclude that I 
Am unaffected by this magic power. 

Mirza. You do. not love the Princess Zeolide? 
You who professed unutterable love ? 

Phil. I liked her well enough at first, but now 
I'm weary of my liking. She displays 
So much unreasonable petulance. 
Such causeless anger — such unbridled wrath, 
That I'm resolved to break the weary link 
That binds us. I'll be free to love again. 

{Taking Mirza' s hand) 

{Mirza releasing herself). Oh, Philamir! Oh. 
shame upon you, sir. 
She loves you ! You are loved by Zeolide ! 
Why there's a heaven opened to your eyes, 
And you'll not enter, Philamir ! Oh, shame 
To blio-ht so true a heart as hers ! Oh, fool. 
To throw aside in wrath so fair a prize ! 

Phil. But listen — I've a fairer prize in view. 
Mirza — I love yon ! 

Mirza {sJmddering with terror). Spare me, sir, 
I pray ! 



3o8 THE PALACE OF TRUTH. 

Phil. Now by this castle's mystic influence; 
I challenge you to answer truthfully — 
Do you love me ? 

Mirza {sJirinking from hini). Have pity, Phila- 
mir ! 
Withdraw your question, I beseech you, sir ! 
If you insist, I must perforce reply — 
I charge you, on your knighthood, press me not ! 
i^YLYLhMiK pauses, jtnigglijig zuith his feelings. 

Phil, (^releasing her). My Lady Mirza, you are 
free to go. \_EDcit Mirza hastily. 

How subtly works the mystic influence, 
That all seem subject to, — excepting me ! 
And from the fearful ordeal only one 
Of all the women here comes out unscathed. 
The peerless Mirza — good, and wise, and pure, 
Most excellent and unapproachable ! 
To know that Mirza loves me, is to know 
That she is mortal — that I knew before. 
To know that Mirza' s worthy of my love, 
And that, despite the searching influence 
That I alone resist — oh, this indeed 
Is happiness ! — I'm sure she loves me well ! 

Enter Zeolide. 

Zeo. Indeed she does ! If half-an-hour ago 
She spoke abruptly to her Philamir, 
She bitterly repents it. Oh, my love, 
Forgive me, for in truth I love you well ! .^ 

PJiil. {embracing Iter fondly). But my remark did 
not apply to you ; 



THE PALACE OF TRUTH. 309 



I spoke of Lady Mirza. 

Zeo. {recoiling). Mirza ? 

Phil. Yes, 

I'm quite convinced she loves me ! 

Zeo. Philamir, 

You should not jest with such a sacred word. 
You've played your joke upon me and you've seen 
How readily I fell into the trap ; 
Let that content you. There — I'm not annoyed — 
I'll not be caught again ! 

Phil, {earnestly). Dear Zeolide, 

Indeed I do not jest — nor did I when 
You left me in unwarrantable rage. 
I love the Lady Mirza — she loves me. 

Zeo. {horrified). She told you so } 

Phil. Well, no. I'm bound to say 

She did not tell me so in open words ; 
Her love for you restrained her. She's too good — 
Too pure — too honorable — to allow 
A passion for her dearest friend's betrothed 
To master her. You should have heard her plead 
Your hopeless cause. She struggles with her love. 
And tries to keep it down — but still she loves. 

Zeo. {astounded). And you return this love ? 

p/iil^ Most heartily. 

{With ajfectionate gesture). I'm getting weary of 

you, and I wish 
That I could find sufficient argument 
To justify me in releasing you. {She shrinks from 
him.) 



3IO THE PALACE OE TRUTH. 



Why now you frown again ! Oh, ZeoHde, 
This willfulness is insupportable ! 

Zeo. {enraged). Support it then no longer, 

Philamir ! 
There — you are free — our bond is at an end ; 
Choose your path, I'll choose mine. Our roads 

diverge. 
We* part and may not meet again. Farewell ! 
(Changing hei' manner) Oh, Philamir, heed not my 

words, I spoke 
In reckless haste — I spoke my death-warrant ! 
Philamir, do not leave me, let me live ; 
See how I love you ! I am at your feet — 
I, Zeolide, whom once you thought so cold — 
I, Zeolide, who am not wont to kneel ! 
Oh, give me till to-night, and pass the hours 
That intervene in marshaling the past. 
And let that plead my cause ! You loved me once, 
You asked me for my love — I gave my life, 
For I must die if you abandon me ! 
Have mercy on me ! Give me till to-night ! 
There's some enchantment in this fearful place. 
This is not Philamir — it is his shape. 
But does not hold his soul. Before the night 
I'll seek my father, and I'll gain from him 
The key that solves this fearful mystery. 
Go now — nay, do not speak — no^ — not a word — 
I'll not believe that this is Philamir. 
Go, leave me now — and we will meet to-night ! 

\He hesitates ; then exit. 



THE PALACE OF TRUTH. 311 

Oh, Philamir, my love, my love, my love ! {She 
falls sobbing ojt concJi). 

Enter Palmis. 

Palmis. What ? Zeolide in tears ? Has Philamir 
Been too emphatic in his vows of love ? 
Have pity on him ! 

Zeo. Palmis, pity me — 

He loves me not ! 

Palmis. Indeed ? 

Zeo. He told me so. 

Palmis {relieved). Oho ! He told you so ? 

Zeo. Most openly. 

Palmis. Then there is hope for you. Come dry 
your eyes ; 
When men are over head and ears in love, 
They can not tell the truth — they must deceive. 
Though the deception tell against themselves ! 
Here Chrysal comes — {astonished) a lady on his 
arm! 

Enter Chrysal and Azema — he leaves Azema 
abruptly on seeing Palmis. 

Palmis. Why, Chrysal, who is this .? Where have 
you been ? 

Chrys. {affectionately). I have been wandering 
through shady groves 
With that exceedingly attractive girl. 

Palmis. You have been flirting, sir } 

Chrys. {putting his arin round her waist). Ex- 
ceedingly ! 



312 THE PALACE OF TRUTH, 

I always do when I'm away from you. 

Pahnis {to Azema), Oh, you're a brazen woman ! 

Azhna {with great modesty). That I am ! 

An ordinary every-day coquette, 
Who lives on admiration, and resolves 
To gain it by whatever means she can. 

Zeo. {aside to Palmis). Palmis, there's some en- 
chantment in this place — 
I know not what — it influences all. 
Do not dismiss him yet, until we learn 
Its nature ! 

Chrys. {with ajfectioji). Yes, my Palmis, wait 
awhile, 
Do not dismiss me yet ; although it's true 
I never loved you, yet I want your love 
Because you have much influence at Court, 
And have it in your power to help me on 
To further favor. 

Palmis {astounded). Chrysal, are you mad t 
You never loved me .-^ 

Chrys. {enthusiastically). Never, on m}- soul ! 
In point of fact, I always hated you. 
And mean to tell you so when I have won 
The highest rank your mistress can confer. 
In the mean time, however, I am fain 
To make you think that I adore you still. 
Observe the heaving of my swelling heart ; 
My fervid manner — my ecstatic gaze — 
It's all assumed ! 

Palmis. Oh, miserable man ! 



THE PALACE OF TRUTH. 313 

Go — get you hence, sir. 

CJirys. (astonished). Palmis, what on earth 
Possesses you ? 

Palmis. Don't speak to me again, 

I can't endure you ! 

Re-enter Zoram. 

Zor. I am glad of this. 

Dear Palmis, I for many a weary day 
Have sought to win your love from Chrysal here, 
By every mean, contemptible device 
That my unequaled cunning could suggest. 

Chrys. {amazed). And you admit this to my very 

face 1 
Zor. {cordially). With pleasure, Chrysal. I have 

sought in vain, 
By daily blackening your character, 
To sicken pretty Palmis of her love. 
I've told her you're an unexampled rake, 
A gambler and a spendthrift, mean, poor, base. 
Selfish and sordid ; cruel, tyrannical ; 
But all in vain, she loves you all the more. 
{Taking his hand) Forget, the angry words you 

spoke to-day ; 
In the glad glow of hope that I shall gain 
Your Palmis' love, I freely pardon you. 

CJirys. {in fiwious rage). This evening, in the 

Avenue of Palms, 

I shall await you, sir. 

Zor. {in blank astonishment). Oh dear, oh dear, 
27 



314 THE PALACE OF TRUTH. 

What have I said ? 

Enter Gelanor. 
Gelan, Hush, gentlemen — the Queen. 

Re-enter Queen Altemire hastily, 

A Item, {in a rage). Where is the King ? Go, 
send him here to me. 
Oh, Zeohde, go, get you hence away, 
For I have words for Phanor that 'twere best 
His daughter did not hear. 

Zeo. My father comes. 

Re-enter Phanor and Mirza. 

Alt em. Now, sir, I've every reason to believe, 
From what Pve heard, that you're deceiving me ! 
I'll question you — oh, infamous old man ! 

Phan. {aside). The Queen is jealous. Where's 
my talisman ? {finds it.) 
All right — it's well I have it with me now. 
{Aloud) Interrogate me. Conscious innocence 
Has little fear of Palaces of Truth ! 

Alt em. You have been walking in the shrubbery. 
What were you doing there 1 

Phan. {with great shozv of love for Altemire). 

Why, making love 
To Mirza. I invariably do 
Whenever I've a chance ; but all in vain. 
She's a good woman, and despises me. 
{To Mirza) Haven't I offered love to you .^ 



THE PALACE OF TRUTH.- 315 



Mh'za, You have. 

Pha7t. And you despise me, don't you ? 

Mirza. Heartily. 

Phan. {to Altemire). I told you so, and she in- 
dorses it. 
Believe me, I am bound to speak the truth ! 

A Item, {bitterly). I do believe you. 

Phajt. {taking her by the hand). Thank you, 
Altemire. 

Altem. Stand off, don't touch me, horrible old 
man ! 
You tell me you've made love to Mirza } 

Phan. {astonished). No ! 

Did I say that t 

Altem. Most unmistakably. 

Phan. Oh, come, I say ! 

Zor. You did indeed, my lord ! 

Phan. I said that I made love to Mirza t 

Chrys, . Yes, 

Those were the very words ! 

Phan. Oh, Mirza, come, 

You can deny this ! 

Mirza. Would, my lord, I could. 

To spare the Queen I would be silent, but 
Some unknown power masters me, and makes 
Me own, against my will, that it was so ! 

Altem. There, sir — you hear her words ! 

Phan. {aside to Gelanor). Why, G^lanor, 

How's this ? The talisman is out of gear ! 

{Showing box to Gelanor). 



3i6 THE PALACE OF TRUTH. 

Gelan. Let me examine it. {Takes it and re^ 
turns it) A forgery ! 
A clever imitation ; virtueless ! 
It lacks the small inscription on the hinge ! 

(Phanor falls breathless into a chair) 
Phan. To-morrow morning we go home again ! 



ACT III. 

Scene. — The Avenue of Palms — night. Chrysal 
discovered with a drawn sword in his Jiaitd. 

Enter Gelanor. 

Gelan. Chrysal, alone ! And with a naked sword ! 

Chrys. I'm waiting Zoram. I have challenged 
him. 
He meets me here — the Avenue of Palms. 

Gelan. Has he offended you } 

Chrys. Most grievously. 

You heard the words he used to me to-day t 

Gelan. I did. 

Chrys. Then blood must flow. I am a knight. 
My knightly honor claims this sacrifice, 
I've been insulted — one of us must die ! 

Gelan. You are a valiant man, if one may judge 
By your demeanor. 

Chrys. {very valiantly). My demeanor } Bounce ! 
Mere idle empty froth and nothing more. 
Why, notwithstanding that I look so brave, 



THE PALACE OF TRUTH. 317 



I'd give the riches of a universe 
To find some decent means of backing out ; 
But, no, my honor must be satisfied ! 
If I endured with patience Zoram's taunts, 
I should deserve to have my knightly spurs 
Struck from my heels! 'Sdeath, sir, I'm bound to 
ftght! 

Gelan. Is Zoram a good swordsman ? 

Chrys. Not at all. 

I'm far more skilled — but still I can't repress 
A certain sense of terror. Accident 
May give him victory. 

Gelan, Apologize ! 

Chrys. {indignantly). To Zoram t Never ! Would 
you have me stain 
My hitherto untarnished 'scutcheon ? Shame ! 
Stand back — he comes ! 

Enter Zoram, with drawn sword. 

Well, sir, you've kept your word. 

Zor. Of course I have ! 

Chrys. {very sternly). I'm very much surprised — 
I may say disappointed — to remark 
That you're prepared to fight, and do not show 
The signs of terror that I hoped to see. 

Zor. {very bravely). Oh, sir, I pray you don't 
deceive yourself ! 
My valiant manner hides an inward fear 
That almost robs me of the power of thought ! 
Chrysal, you've grievously insulted me, 

27* 



3i8 THE PALACE OF TRUTH. 

My sense of honor forces me to fight ! 
But I would rather have my hand cut off 
(Could that be done without inflicting pain) 
Than measure swords with you ! 

Chrys. You craven hound ! 

Zor. Craven yourself ! 

Chrys. {fiu'iotisly). I am, but you don't know it, 
You musical impostor ! 

Zor. Ha, what's that ? 

I can stand much abuse and never flinch, 
But when you twit me with my ignorance 
Of musical expressions, blood alone 
(Unless we're interrupted) can extract 
The venom of the insult ! Come ! On guard ! 

{They fight) 

Gdan. (aside). These donkeys must not fight ! 
{Alotid) Come — let me try 
To reconcile you. 

Chrys. Reconcile us ? No ! 

But you can interfere to stop the fight ! {They desist) 

Zor. {looJdng i^eproachfidly at Gelanor). I little 
thought when I called Chrysal on, 
That such a venerable gentleman 
Would suffer two impetuous headstrong youths 
To cut each other's throats. 

Gclan. Come, come — desist. 

Chrys. This hound abused me ! 

Zor. He insulted me ! 

Both. Our honor must be satisfied ! 

{They cross swoj'ds.) 



THE PALACE OF TRUTH. 319 

Gelan, No, no — 

Attend to me. Within these crystal walls 
A strange mysterious influence prevails : 
All men are bound to speak the plainest truth ! 
And this they do, without suspecting it. 
(To Zoram) When Chrysal spoke the words that 

angered you 
He did not mean to speak them. He believed 
That he was paying you a compliment. 
{To Chrysal) When Zoram said that he consid- 
ered you 
A systematic liar, mean, poor, base, 
Selfish, and sordid, cruel, tyrannical, 
*Twas what he thoitgJit — not what he would have 
said ! 

Chrys. I see — if that was only what he thoitght 
It makes a difference. 

Gdaii. What could he say } 

He was compelled, you know, to speak the truth. 

Chrys. Of course, I understand. Zoram, your 
hand ! 

Zor. With pleasure. {Shaking hands zvith 
Chrysal.) Chrysal, I should like to say 
That I esteem you — but indeed I can't. 
My detestation of you knows no bounds. 

Chrys. How, sir t A fresh affront } 

Zor. What can I do .' 

I try my best to say agreeable things, 
But you're so utterly contemptible ! 
I'd put it more politely, but I can't ! 



320 THE PALACE OF TRUTH. 

I'm bound against my will to speak the truth ! 
I'd not insult you openly, for worlds — 
Indeed, it's only what I think of you ! 

Chrys. If it is only what you think of me, 
Why say no more ; give me your hand again — 
My knightly honor's amply satisfied ! 

[ They sheathe their swords y then exennt arm 
ifi arm. 
G^lan. So dies that breeze away ! Oh, honor, 
honor ! 
Let no one take you at the estimate 
Your self-elected champions price you at ! 
More harm is worked in that one virtue's name. 
Than springs from half the vices of the earth ! 

Enter Queen Altemire, in violent rage. 

Altem. Why, G^lanor, this is no spot for you. 
You'd better go — the King will wish you gone. 

Gelan. Indeed ! And why ? 

Altem. I'll tell you, Gelanor, 

His majesty has an appointment here. 
Oh, Gelanor, I've been alone with him 
This afternoon, and I have learnt such things ! 
Why, even here — despite the castle's charm, 
Despite the sacred influence of the place. 
He prosecutes his infidelities ! 
At first he persecuted Mirza, but 
Failing to find much favor in her eyes, 
He looked for other game. Why, Gelanor, 
He meets some woman called Azema here, 



THE PALACE OF TRUTH, 321 

At ten o'clock to-night ! 

Gelaii. The deuce he does ! 

A Item. Then I resolved to know the very worst. 
I locked him in my room and questioned him 
For full three hours about his married life. 
Oh, I elicited such fearful things ! 
Why, Gelanor, there's not a woman's name 
In all the long baptismal catalogue 
That's not identified with his intrigues ! 
Tall, short, stout, slender, fair, dark, old and young, 
High, low, rich, poor, good, bad, maid, widow, wife, 
Of every country and of every clime ! 
All's fish that his nets catch ! 

Gelan. And a king's net 

Is very comprehensive. Here she comes ! 

Enter Azema. 

Alt em. Is this the woman } Tell me, who are 
you ? 

Azhna. I am Azema. 

Altem. And / am the Queen ! 

Azhna. {bowing). Then, madam, you're extremely 
in the way. 

Altem. How so } 

Azhna. I've an appointment with the King, 

Of which you are entirely unaware ; 
But though I'm much annoyed to find you here, 
I'm glad to find you here with Gelanor. 

Altem. And why > 

Azhna. If our intrigue should come to light. 



322 THE PALACE OE TRUTH. 

We can retaliate by giving out 

That you and Gelanor are just as bad. 

A It em. Upon my word ! 

Gelan. Oh, this is past belief ! 

Altcm. Infamous hussy, you shall pay for this ! 

Azenia. Why, madam, how have / offended you ? 

Altent. How ? — you are here to meet the Pving, 
alone ; 
At night — by pre-arrangement — in the dark ! 

Azhjia. Oh, madam, this indeed is terrible ! 
That poor Azeraa should be charged with this ! 
It's true I've an appointment with the King, 
But as you're not aware of it, your words 
Are utterly unjustifiable. 
These flashing eyeballs and this angry blush 
(At least I hope I'm blushing) represent 
The noble rage of outraged innocence. 
I'll to the King, and let him know at once 
How, as I wandered through the grove, alone, 
/ found you here with wicked Gelanor, 
At night — by pre-arrangement — in the dark. 
Oh, shame upon you — shame upon you, Queen! 

\Exit AziiMA — Altemire <2;/^ Gelanor stand 
confounded. 

Gelan. Your majesty, I think I'd better go. 

Altent. Absurd! the notion is preposterous! 
You're old enough to be my father. 

Gelan. Quite ! 

And wise enough to know that proper folk 
Will only say " that makes the matter worse ! " 



THE PALACE OF TRUTH. 323 

Altem. But surely here, in this enchanted home, 
Where all are bound to speak the truth, our word 
Will guarantee our perfect innocence ! 

Gelan. Yes, if the King is pleased to take our word ; 
But, as you've brought a charge against the King, 
Analogous to that which will be brought 
Against ourselves, he may ignore the fact 
That truth is truth. No, no, upon the whole, 
I think, your majesty, I'd better go ! 

{Exit Gelanor. 

Enter Palmis and Zeolide, Zeolide weeping. 

Palmis. Nay, do not weep, dear mistress. 

Zeo. Ah, my friend, 

What comfort can yon offer me ? 

Palmis. I've heard 

That when one is oppressed with weight of woe, 
Some solace may be found in dwelling on 
The grief of one more sorely laden still. 

Zeo. More sorely laden } Where will Zeolide 
Find one whose misery outweighs her own } 

Palmis. Your misery, though great, is but a grain 
When balanced in the scales with mine ! 

Zeo. With yours ? 

Palmis. Yes ; Philamir respects you. He esteems 
Your moral excellence, although no doubt 
He does not love you as a lover should ; 
But Chrysal always hated me, and sought 
To gain that love I gave so willingly 
To hasten his promotion at the Court. 



324 THE PALACE OE TRUTH. 

Your case and mine are diiferent. Besides, 
You angered Philamir. I never gave 
My Chrysal any reason for his hate. 

Zeo. How did I anger him ? 

Palmis. Your petulance 

Annoyed him. 

Zeo. Petulance ! He told me that 

He only liked me ! 

Alt em. {coming forward). True, but you forget 
He was compelled to speak the plainest truth, 
And knew not that he spoke it. He believed 
(While he was telling you he loved you not) 
That he was breathing ardent words of love ; 
Believing this, your reasonable rage 
Seemed in his eyes irrational caprice, 
And changed his waning love to sheer dislike. 

Zeo. Is this the truth then ? 

Alteiit. Yes, I think it is. 

The test has been exceedingly severe. 

Zeo. ril wed no man who can not stand this test. 

Palmis. Then, Zeolide, you'll surely die a maid ! 

Altem. Come, come, be reasonable. Philamir 
Is but a man — a vain and idle one. 
But under this veneer of coxcombry 
There's sterling stuff. The man is honest gold, 
And vanity has silver-plated him. 

Palmis. At all events, you know he likes you well. 
How many maidens when they wed a man 
Have reason to be sure of half as much ! 

Zeo. But then his love for Mirza ! 



THE PALACE OF TRUTH. 325 

Altemr Idle pique ! 

No doubt he hoped — as other lovers hope — 
In the fierce whirlpool of a new-born love 
To drown remembrance of the love just dead. 
Here comes the Lady Mirza ! We will go, 
And leave you with her. Tell her every thing ; 
She is a noble lady — wise and pure ! 
She will not rob you of your Philamir. 
There — tell her all ! 

Zeo. Forgive me, mother dear, 

My heart is softened. I have been unjust. 

\Exetmt Altemire and Palmis. 

Enter Mirza. 

Mirza. Oh, Zeolide, I know what you would say. 
Say on, dear Zeolide, and have no fear. 

Zeo. Mirza, for three long years we two have been 
As sisters are, and I would speak to you 
As younger sister speaks to elder-born. 
Give me your counsel, Mirza, it will be 
As pure, as true, as honest as those eyes. 

Mirza. If counsel such as mine can serve you 
aught, 
*Tis thine, dear Zeolide. My sister, speak. 

Zeo. With all my soul I love Prince Philamir. 

A lady — good and beautiful and wise — 

Unwittingly hath robbed me of my love ; 

She is too pure, too gentle, too divine. 

To seek a love that rightly is not hers. 

No, no, this lady hath not sought his love — 
28 



326 THE PALACE OF TRUTH. 

Of that I'm certain, yet she hath his love ! 
Oh, Mirza, when my Philamir declared 
His love for me, I cast away the world 
To enter Paradise. Now, Philamir 
Has led this lady (all unwillingly) 
Within its gates, and I am left without — 
A lonely wanderer 'twixt earth and heaven. 
Mirza, dear sister, say — what shall I do? 
Give me thy counsel — Pll abide by it. 

Mirza. No need to speak to me in parable. 
I am that lady whom you over-praise — 
That most unhappy woman, Zeolide ! 
Despite myself, I must admit the truth, 
I do love Philamir — shrink not from me. 
Mine is no idle love. Four years ago. 
Ere you had ever seen Prince Philamir, 
I was a lady of his father's Court. 
He loved me even then, and I loved him — 
No need to tell you, dearest Zeolide, 
The nature of that love ; you know too well 
How women love who love Prince Philamir ! 
We were betrothed, but secretly. Alas ! 
I was a humble waiting lady, he 
A mighty Prince — so we concealed our love. 
Then it was rumored that he sought your hand, 
That policy, the curse of kings, required 
That he should marry you. Then I fell ill — 
{Struggling zvith her emotion) Pass over that.. Let 

it suffice that I 
Released him — for I loved him passing well! 



THE PALACE OF TRUTH. 327 

Zeo. {amazed), I never knew of this ! 

Mh'za. No, Zeolide, 
I've learnt to bear my sorrow silently. 
But for the sacred genius of this spot, 
Whose influence no mortal can resist, 
My secret would have passed away with me. 
But I was true to you ; for though I saw 
How coldly you received his vows of love 

Zeo. {f'ising astonished). Coldly ! Why, every 
word he spoke to me 
Rang through my brain, and would have waked up 

love 
Had love been dead ! 

Mirza. I thought you loved him not. 

But though I grieved for 'him, yet when he spake 
(As he at times would speak) of our old love, 
I checked him with a simulated scorn, 
For then, dear Zeolide, I loved you both ! 

Zeo. You love me still.'* 

Mirza. Most heartily ! 

Zeo. Why, then, 

Have mercy on me, give me Philamir — 
He is the soul and essence of my life 1 
Dear sister Mirza, give him back to me. 
Oh, rather take my life than take my love. 
And leave me here to linger on, alone ! 

Mh^za. Fear not, dear Zeolide, I love him well, 
But I will never see his face again ! 

Zeo. Promise me this — swear to renounce his 
love ! 



328 THE PALACE OF TRUTH. 

Mirza. As there's a shining sun in heaven I 
swear ! 
See, I am brave, and I will fight my love 
As I have fought ere this. Take courage, dear, 
I'll leave this place to-night, and Philamir 
Shall ne'er set eyes upon my face again. 
There, go — I'll tell him this. He's coming now — 
Go dry your eyes — he should not see them so. 
Come back again when they are at their best. 

\_Exit Zeolide. 

Enter Philamir. 

Phil. Mirza — I have some words to say to you — 
The diary you lost to-day .'* 

Mirza {eagerly). Well, sir, 

And have you found it } 

Phil. Mirza, I have found 

A portion of it — one loose leaf — behold ! 

{Producing page.) 

Mirza. And you have read it, Philamir } 

Phil, {gniliily). I have ! 

Mirza. Oh, shame upon you — shame upon you, 
sir! 
You gave your knightly word — you are forsworn ! 

Phil. But, Mirza, hear me out, ere you condemn. 
I saw a paper tossed before the wind. 
And little dreaming 'twas your diary, 
I picked it up. I knew not what it was 
Till I began to read it. Then I knew. 
And knowing so much, burnt to know still more ! 



THE PALACE OF TRUTH, 329 

Mirza. But when you knew it held my secret 
thoughts, 
You read no further ? 

PhiL {abashed). Mirza, I read on ! 

Mirza, Lost ! lost ! Give me that leaf, Prince 
Philamir ; 
You have deceived me, sir — I trusted you. 

Phil. But, Mirza, where is the knight who would 
have stopped 
When of himself he read such words as these ? — 
(Reads) " I still love Philamir, but I must strive 
To battle with my love. Oh, give me grace 
To fight this fight." 

Mirza. I charge you read no more ! 

Phil. " By day his every look — his every word — 
Renews some mem'ry that should be long dead ; 
By night the phantom of my loved one's face 
Burns in my eyes and robs me of my rest ! " 

Mirza. My secret has gone forth. I strove to 
keep 
That love as silent as my silent heart ; 
But it was not to be. You now know all ! 
Yet no — not all! 

Phil. Then, Mirza, tell me all. 

Speak openly — hide nothing from me now. 

Mirza. I will speak openly. I love you, sir ; 
And, loving you, I leave the Court to-night. 
That I may never see your face again. 

Phil. Recall those words ! — we will not — must 
not part ! {He detains her.) 
28* 



330 THE PALACE OF TRUTH. 

Enter Zeolide, unobserved. 

Mirza. Release me, Philamir, and let me go ! 
I love you ! Let me hide myself away. 
I love you ! Leave me with myself alone. 
I love you ! Show me gratitude for this, 
And leave me free to sanctify my yow. 
For I have sworn to see your face no more ! 

PJiiL To whom have you sworn this ? 

Mirza. To Zeolide, 

Whom you once loved so well — who still loves you. 

PJiiL I never loved her, Mirza — who is she, 
That she should come between me and my love ? 
She loves me not, and I have done with her. 

Mirza. Oh, this will kill her, sir ! 

Zeo. No — Mirza — no ! 

It will not kill me. I can bear this blow. 

(Coming forward^ 
Prince Philamir, we two have been betrothed — 
Your word is plighted — well, I set you free. 
Mirza, you swore to leave Prince Philamir — 
Your word is plighted — well, I set you free. 
{She takes Mirza's hand and places it in Philamir's.) 
Oh, Philamir — this is indeed the end ! 
Be true to her — such sacred love as hers 
Should purify its object — oh, be true ! 
I'm but a chapter in your book of life, 
I who had thought to be the book itself ! 
The chapter's ended, and to Zeolide 
The book is closed forever ! Philamir, 



THE PALACE OF TRUTH. 331 

When you are tempted to do Mirza wrong, 

Turn to^ that chapter — read it through and 

through — 
And let the tale of all that I have borne 
Warn you from fresh inconstancy ; my grief 
May thus be Mirza's safeguard to the end. 
Mirza — my sister — he will love you well — 
Here, in the home of truth, he tells you so. 
May you be happy in his new-born love, 
May he be worthy of such love as yours — 
{To Philamir) Speak not, but let me go. 

{Kisses Mikza! s forehead.) 

Farewell — farewell ! 

\_Exit Zeolide, weeping — Philamir and 

Mirza stand for a moment gazing at eacJi 

other — then they fall into each other s arms. 

Phil. Mirza, my own ! At last — at last my own ! 

Mirza. Oh, Philamir ! I am so cruelly racked 
By sentiments I can not reconcile, 
I know not whether this is joy or grief ! 
True, when I think of Philamir, the air 
Seems charged with music, and the earth I tread 
All flowers. When I remember Zeolide 
I could go mad with sorrow ! 

Phil. Then, my love, 

Think not of Zeolide ! 

Mirza. Ah, Philamir, 

You speak as men speak of a worn-out love. 
You only know one kind of love, you men ! 
My love for Zeolide is otherwise, 



332 THE PALACE OF TRUTH. 

Unselfish, generous, a sister's love. 

Yet I have stolen from her gentle heart 

That which in all the world she loved the best ! 

Phil. You are too sensitive. Say, rather, she 
Hath freely given that she prizes least. 

Mirza. Oh, Philamir, indeed you do her wrong. 
And may perchance wrong me, as you wronged her. 

Phil, {rising). Impossible ! For if the words I 
breathe 
Were dashed with any mockery of love, . 
I should against my will, confess it now. 
Mirza, I love you ! These are idle words 
When spoken in the unenchanted world, 
But, spoken here, they bear significance 
That rivals in its worth a life-long test ! 
Let us exchange some trinket which shall serve 
As evidence of this our solemn troth. 
Here is my pledge. {Giving a ring)) 

Mirza. My love, what can I give } 

I have no trinkets — I am very poor ! 

Phil. A handkerchief — a glove — no matter 
what ! 
{She feels in pocket and takes ont handkercJiief 
— the crystal box falls out with it — he picks 
it up and retains it.) 
This crystal box — nay, give it me, 'twill serve 
To chronicle 

Mirza {hastily). No, no, Prince Philamir ! 
Not that — not that ! it is a talisman ! 

Phil. Then I will steal it as I stole your heart, 



THE PALACE OF TRUTH, 2>Zl 

And I will keep it while I keep that heart. 

Mirza. Give me that box, or I must own the 
truth — 
That I am miserably false to all ! 

{Throwing herself at his feet.) 
That my morality is all assumed ! 
That I am mean, and base, and treacherous ! 
A shameless schemer ! heartless — impudent ! 
Give me that box, or I must own that I 
Abstracted it from Phanor's cabinet, 
And substituted one that I possessed 
Exactly like it. I must own to you 
That I'm unutterably infamous — 
A hypocrite — a traitress to my friend — 
All this, and more, I must admit, if you 
Retain that talisman ! Oh, give it me. 
And let this locket testify our love ! 
The King ! The King ! The King ! I am undone ! 

l^Exit MiRZA hastily. 

Phil. Gone, gone ! — and Philamir, who thought 
he knew 
The ways of woman well, had still to learn 
That in one woman's body there is place 
For such a goodly show of purity. 
And such unequalled treachery of heart ! 
Oh, Zeolide, for how much infamy 
Have I rejected thine unequaled love ? 

Enter Phanor with Chrysal and Zoram. 
Phan. Congratulate me, I'm half mad with joy ; 



334 THE PALACE OF TRUTH, 



Azema comes to tell me that she found 
The Queen and Gelanor together here — 
Alone — at night ! 

Phil. Well, sir, and what of that ? 

Phan. Nothing at all, my boy ! Why that's the 
joke. 
Old Gelanor has dandled Altemire 
Upon his aged knee five hundred times ! 

Phil. What — lately? 

Phan. No ! I won't commit myself 

By telling you how many years ago, 
But long before her majesty was weaned. 

Phil, (slwugging his shoiddej's). I see no reason 
to condole with you. 
Because her majesty and Gelanor 
Were here together — neither do I see 
Why should you be congratulated, sir ! 

PJian. You're very dull! The Queen has just 
found out 
That I had an appointment in this grove 
To meet Azema — don't you understand } 
I can retort and take indignant ground. 
What was she doing here with Gelanor 1 
You'll see ! {Sees box) Hallo ! What's that > 

Phil. A talisman. 

It fell from Mirza's pocket as you came. 

Phan. The deuce it did ! Allow me, this is mine ! 

{Taking it.) 

Phil. I know : she stole it from your cabinet, 
She owned as much ! 



THE PALACE OF TRUTH. 335 



Phan. Confound her impudence ! 

Phil. Oh, I have been deceived ! 

Phan. And so have I ! 

Most seriously deceived ! Hush, here's the Queen, 
And with that gay deceiver, Gelanor ! 
Tlie tahsman has turned up just in time. 

Enter Altemire and Gelanor, with Azema and 

MiRZA. 

So, madam, I've detected you ! 

Altem. {indignantly). How, sir ? 

Phan. Never mind how — and you too, Gelanor. 
Oh, I'm ashamed of you ! {Crossing to Gelanor.) 

Gc'lan. Your majesty, 

I don't know what you mean. 

Phan. You bad old man ! 

{Affecting to weep) You whom I trusted so ! {Aside) 

Don't be alarmed, 
I'm not in earnest. {Aloud) Oh, it's infamous ! 
Why, let me see — how old are you .'' 

Gela7i. My lord, 

If you imply 

Phan. Imply ! {Aside) Don't be a fool, 

I'm not in earnest ; I have found the box ! 
{aloud) Explain this conduct ! 

Altem, Sir, this is a joke } 

Phan. Well, not exactly, madam ; you've been 
found . 
Philandering at night with Gelanor. 
Being within the influence of these walls, 



336 THE PALACE OF TRUTH. 

You're bound to speak the truth. If you can say 
Your meeting's innocent, I'm satisfied. 

A Item. As innocent as truth itself, I swear. 

PJian. I'm satisfied ! Your hand 

Alt em. Nay, hear me first. 

I charge you with appointing here to meet 
Azema ; you are bound to tell the truth, 
Being within the influence of these walls. 
If you can unreservedly deny 
This charge, I also shall be satisfied. 

Phait. Emphatically I deny the charge ! 

Alt em. {astounded). You do t 

Phan. I do ! [Piotcsly) This is the Home of 

Truth, 
And all are subject to its influence. 

Altem. {puzzled). But you admitted it when you 
confessed 
Your gallantries to me this afternoon ! 

Phan. Oh, you've been dreaming ! 

Altem. Do I understand 

That you deny that you confessed all this ? 

Phan. Distinctly ! {Piously) This is the Abode 
of Truth. 

Altem. I have been dreaming ! Phanor, there's 
my hand — 
I've deeply wronged you. 

Pha7i. Altemire, you have ! 

But say no more — we are good friends again. 

Altem. Then you forgive me .-* 

Phan. Heartily I do ! 



THE PALACE OF TRUTH. 337 

Altem. I'll never be a jealous fool again. 
Phan. I'm very glad indeed to hear you say so ! 

Enter Zeolide — Altemire retires with Gela- 
NOR, and converses with Zeolide — Philamir, 
seeing Zeolide, comes down abashed. 

Phan. {to Philamir). Well, and what's wrong 
with you ? 

Phil. I've been a fool, , 

A madman, and a true-born idiot ! 

Phan. By the mysterious influence of this place, 
I can believe it ! 

Phil. I have given up 

The noblest woman that I ever knew, 
For that abominable cockatrice 
Who quitted me as you arrived. 

Phan. Well! well! 

You may regain her yet. 

Phil. Impossible ! 

Phan. Oh, not at all ! there — take this talisman. 
(Zeolide overhears this speech.) 
With this you're proof against the influence 
That rules this place ; you can declare to her 
That you adore the very ground she walks, 
And wallow in the foolish flummery 
That used to make you so ridiculous. 
She will believe it all — there, take it, boy. 
And make good use of it to win her back. 

Phil. I'll use it, Phanor, and I'll use it well ! 

Zeo. {aside) He takes the box. And thus he 
thinks to win 



338 THE PALACE OE TRUTH. 



The hand of his forsaken ZeoHde ! 

Oh, Philamir, this is contemptible. 

I think I could have loved you, but for this ! 

Phil. Dear Zeolide, I hold a talisman, 
Enabling me to counteract the charm 
That reigns within these walls. With this in hand 
I can tell truth or falsehood as I please, 
And you must needs believe me. Zeolide, 
I've learned to set a value on your love 
Transcending all the riches of the earth ; 
Yet would I rather live without that love — 
A life of self-reproach without that love — 
Repentant and alone without that love — 
Than stoop to gain it by such treachery. 
Here is the talisman. (Zeolide takes it) No longer 

armed 
Against the sacred influence of Truth, 
I tell you of my sorrow and my love 
With all the warmth of a repentant heart ! 

{He presses Zeolide to his heart and kisses her) 

A It em. (indigjiantly). Give me that talisman! 
{Takes it) I have a clew 
To much that was a mystery : Behold ! 

{She breaks it — a loud crash — all come forward. 

Enter Arist^us. 

Gilan. You know not what you've done ! The 
castle's charm 
Is bound up with that mystic talisman ! 
Now that the box is broken, these fair walls 



THE PALACE OF TRUTH, 339 



Are disenchanted ! 

Phan. P'raps it's quite as well. 

Now that the place has lost it's influence 
We shall get on much better. We have learnt 
A lesson that should last us till we die — 
We've learnt how matrimonial constancy 
By causeless jealousy is sometimes tried — 

{Looking reproachfully at Altemire.) 
Ahem. How jealousy is sometimes justified — 

{Lookmg reproachfully at Phanor.) 
Chrys. How Zoram — music's vaunted pioneer — 
Don't even know his notes — and has no ear ! 
Even his cant expressions are the wrong ones ! 
Zor. I have an ear ! 
Phan, {shaking his hand). You have — two very 

long ones ! 
Palmis. You've learnt to doubt the love that 
those profess, 
Who by such love gain temporal success — 

{Looking angrily at Chrys al.) 
Zor. That surly misanthropes, with venom 

tainted — 
Arist. Are often not as black as they are painted ! 
Azhna. To doubt all maids who of their virtue 
boast : 
That they're the worst who moralize the most ! 

{Looking at Mirza.) 
Mirza. That blushes, though they're most be- 
coming, yet 
Proclaim, too oft, the common-place coquette ! 

{Looking at Azema. 



340 THE PALACE OF TRUTH. 

I can declare, with pardonable pride, 
I never blush ! 

Azema. You couldn't if you tried ! 

Phil. Under the influence that lately reigned 
Within these walls I breathed my love unfeigned ; 
Now that that power no longer reigns above, 
I ratify the accents of my love. 
Forgive me, Zeolide, my life, my bride ! 

Zeo. {very demitrely). I love you, Philamir — be 
satisfied ! 



TRIAL BY JURY 

% Bxmrtniit Canlate, 



IN ONE ACT. 



DRAMATIS PERSON.^. 



The Learned Judge ... 
Counsel for the Plaintiff. 

The Defendant 

Foreman of the Jury ... 

Usher 

The Plaintiff 



Mr. F. Sullivan. 

Mr. W. Fisher. 
Mr. Campbell. 
Mr. Kelleher. 
Miss Bromley. 



Bridesmaids, Gentlemen of the Jury, &c. 



TRIAL BY JURY. 

Scene. — A Court of Justice, 

Barristers, Attorneys, and Jurymen discovered 
with Usher. 

Chorus. 

Hark, the hour of ten is sounding ! 
Hearts with anxious fears are bounding ; 
Hall of Justice crowds surrounding, 
Breathing hope and fear — 
For to-day in this arena. 
Summoned by a stern subpoena, 
Edwin, sued by Angelina, 

Shortly will appear. 
(The Usher marshals the]\5KY into Jury-box) 

Solo, Usher. 

Now, Jurymen, hear my advice — 
All kinds of vulgar prejudice 

I pray you set aside : 
With stern judicial frame of mind, 
From bias free of every kind, 

This trial must be tried. 

343 



344 TRIAL BY JURY. 



Ch 



Wilis. 



From bias free of every kind 
This trial must be tried. 

{During Choruses, Usher says.fortissiino, " Silence 

in Co2trt ! ") 

Usher. 

Oh, listen to the plaintiff's case : 
Observe the features of her face — 

The broken-hearted bride. 
Condole with her distress of mind — 
From bias free of every kind 

This trial must be tried ! 

Chorns. 
From bias free, &c. 

Usher. 

And when amid the plaintiff's shrieks. 
The ruffianly defendant speaks — 

Upon the other side ; 
What he may say you needn't mind — 
From bias free of every kind 

This trial must be tried. 

CJiorits. 
From bias free, &c. 



TRIAL BY yURY, 345 

Enter Defendant. 

Defendant, {recit). 
Is this the Court o£ the Exchequer ? 

All. 
It is ! 

Defendant {aside). 

Be firm, my moral pecker, 
Your evil star's in the ascendant ! 

All. 
Who are you ? 

Defendant. 

I'm the defendant ! 

Chonis of Jurymen {shaking their fists). 

Monster, dread our damages ! 
We're the jury, 
Dread our fury ! 

Defendant. 

Hear me, hear me, if you please. 

These are very strange proceedings — 

For, permit me to remark, 

On the merits of my pleadings. 

You're at present in the dark. 



346 TRIAL BY JURY. 

(Defendant beckons to Jurymen — they leave the 
box, and gatJier round him as they sing the fol- 
lowing) : — 

• 
Ha ! ha ! ha ! 

That's a very true remark — 
On the merits of your pleadings, 
We're entirely in the dark ! 
Ha! ha!— ha! ha! 



Song, Defendant. 

When first my old, old love I knew, 

My bosom swelled with joy ; 
My riches at her feet I threw — 

I was a love-sick boy ! 
No terms seemed extravagant 

Upon her to employ — 
I used to mope, and sigh, and pant, 

Just like a love-sick boy ! 

But joy incessant palls the sense ; 

And love, unchanged, will cloy, 
And she became a bore intense 

Unto her love-sick boy ! 
With fitful glimmer burnt my flame, 

And I grew cold and coy. 
At last, one morning, I became 

Another's love-sick boy ! 



TRIAL BY JURY. 347 

Chorus of Jurymen {advancing stealthily). 

Oh, I was like that when a lad ; 

A shocking young scamp of a rover ! 

I behaved like a regular cad ; 

But that sort of thing is all over. 

I'm now a respectable chap, 

And shine with a virtue resplendent, 

An therefore I haven't a scrap 

Of sympathy with the defendant ! 

He shall treat us with awe, 

If there isn't a flaw, 
Singing so merrily — Trial-la-law ! 
Trial -la-law — Trial-la-law ! 
.Singing so merrily — Trial-la-law ! 



Recit. Usher. 

Silence in Court, and all attention lend. 
Behold your Judge ! In due submission bend ! 

Enter Judge on Bench. 

Chorus. 

t 



All hail, great Judge 
To your bright rays 

We never grudge 
Ecstatic praise. 

All hail ! 



348 TRIAL BY JURY, 

May each decree 

As statute rank, 
And never be 

Reversed in banc. 
All hail ! 

Recti. Judge. 

For these kind words accept my thanks, I pray ! 
A Breach of Promise we've to try to-day ; 
But firstly, if the time you'll not begrudge, 
I'll tell you how I came to be a judge. 

All. 
He'll tell us how he came to be a judge-! 

Judge. 
Let me speak. 

All. 

Let him speak. 

Judge. 
Let me speak. 

All. 

Let him speak. Hush ! hush ! ! hush ! ! ! 
{fortissimo) He'll tell us how he came to be a judge ! 



TRIAL BY JURY. 349 

Song, Judge. 

When I, good friends, was called to the bar, 

I'd an appetite fresh and hearty, 
But I was, as many young barristers are, 

An impecunious party : 
I'd a swallow-tail coat of a beautiful blue — 

A brief which I bought of a booby — 
A couple of shirts and a collar or two. 

And a ring that looked like a ruby. 

ChoiiLs. 
A couple of shirts, &c. 

Judge. 

In Westminster Hall I danced a dance, 

Like a semi-despondent fury ; 
For I thought I should never hit on a chance 

Of addressing a British jury — 
But I soon got tired of third-class journeys 

And dinners of bread and water ; 
So I fell in love with a rich attorney's 

Elderly, ugly daughter. 

Chorus. 
So he fell in love, &c. 

Judge. 

The rich attorney he jumped with joy, 
And replied to my fond professions : 
30 



3SO 



TRIAL BY JURY, 



" You shall reap the reward of your pluck, my boy, 
" At the Bailey and Middlesex Sessions. 

" You'll soon get used to her looks," said he, 
" And a very nice girl you'll find her ! 

" She may very well pass for forty-three 
" In the dusk, with a light behind her ! 

Chorus. 
" She may very well, &c." 

Judge. 

The rich attorney was good as his word : 

The briefs came trooping gayly, 
And every day my voice was heard 

At the Sessions or Ancient Bailey. 
All thieves who could my fees afford 

Relied on my orations, 
And many a burglar I've restored 

To his friends and his relations. 

Chorus. 
And many a burglar, &c. 



Judge. 

At length I became as rich as the Gurneys 
An incubus then I thought her, 

So I threw over that rich attorney's 
Elderly, ugly daughter. 



TRIAL BY JURY. 351 

The rich attorney my character high 

Tried vainly to disparage — 
And now, if you please, I'm ready to try 

This breach of promise of marriage ! 

Chorus. 
And now if you please, &c. 

Judge. 
For now I am a Judge ! 

All. 
And a good Judge too ! 

Judge. 
Yes, now I am a Judge ! 

All. 
And a good Judge too ! 

Judge. 

Though all my law is fudge, 
Yet I'll never, never budge, 
But I'll live and die a Judge ! 

All. 
And a good Judge too ! 



352 



TRIAL BY JURY, 



Judge {pianissimo). 
It was managed by a job ! 

All. 
And a good job too ! 

Judge. 
It was managed by a job ! 

All. 
And a good job too ! 

Judge. 

It is patent to the mob, 
That my being made a nob 
Was effected b}^ a job. 

All. 
And a good job too ! 

Enter CouNSEL/br Plaintiff. 

Counsel {i-ecit). 
Swear thou the Jury ! 

Usher. 
Kneel, Jurymen, oh ! kneel ! 



TRIAL BY JURY. z^^ 

(All the yziry kneel in the yury-box and so are hid- 
den fjvm andie7ice.) 

Usher. 

Oh, will you swear by yonder skies, 
Whatever question may arise 
'Twixt rich and poor — 'twixt low and high. 
That you will well and truly try ? 

Jury (raising their hands, which alone are visible). 

To all of this we make reply, 
By the dull slate of yonder sky : 
That we will well and truly try. 

(All rise with the last note, both hands in air.) 

Recit. Usher. 

This blind devotion is indeed a crusher — 
Pardon the tear-drop of the simple Usher ! 

(He zueeps.) 

Recit. Counsel. 
Call the plaintiff ! 

Recit. Usher. 
Oh, Angelina ! Angehna ! ! Come thou into Court. 

Enter the Bridesmaids, each beaiing two palm 
branches, their arms crossed on their bosoms, 
and rose-wreaths on their arms. 
30* 1 



354 TRIAL BY JURY. 

Chorus of Bridesmaids. 

Comes the broken flower — 

Comes the cheated maid — 
Though the tempest lower, 

Rain and cloud will fade ! 
Take, oh maid, these posies : 

Though thy beauty rare 
Shame the blushing roses, 

They are passing fair ! 

Wear the flowers till they fade : 
Happy be thy life, oh maid! 

{The Judge, Jiaving taken a great fancy to First 
Bridesmaid, sends her a note by Usher, which 
she reads, kisses rapturously, and places in her 
bosom') 

Solo, Angelina. 

O'er the season vernal, 

Time may cast a shade ; 
Sunshine, if eternal. 

Makes the roses fade ! 
Time may do his duty ; 

Let the thief alone — 
Winter hath a beauty 

That is all his own. 

Fairest days are sun and shade: 
I am no unhappy maid ! 

{By this time the Judge has transferred his admi- 
ration to Angelina.) 



TRIAL BY yURY. 355 

Chorus of Bridesmaids. 

Comes the broken flower, &c. 

{During Chorus Angelina collects wreaths of roses 
from ^KiDY.s^i AIDS and gives them to the Jury, 
who put thern on, and wear them during the 
rest of the piece.) 

Judge {to Associate.) 

Oh, never, never, never, since I joined the human 

race, 
Saw I so exquisitely fair a face. 

The Jury {shaking their forefingers at Judge). 
Ah, sly dog ! Ah, sly dog ! 

Judge {to Jury). 
How say you, is she not designed for capture ? 

Foreman {after cotisulting with the Jury). 
We've but one word, my lord, and that is — Rapture ! 

Plaintiff {courtesy ing). 
Your kindness, gentlemen, quite overpowers ! 

The Jury. 
We love you fondly, and would make you ours ! 

The Bridesmaids {shaking their forefingers at 

Jury). 

Ah, sly dogs ! Ah, sly dogs ! 



356 TRIAL BY JURY. 

Counsel /<?7^ Plaintiff (;rrz/.) 

May it please you, my lucl ! 
Gentlemen of the Jury ! 

Aria. 

With a sense of deep emotion, 
I approach this painful case ; 

For I never had a notion 

That a rnan could be so base, 

Or deceive a girl confiding, 

Vows, etccBtera^ deriding. 

All. 

He deceived a girl confiding, 
Vows, etccEtera, deriding. 

(Plaintiff y^//i- sobbing on Counsel's breast^ and 
remains there). 

Counsel. 

See my interesting client, 
Victim of a heartless wile ! 

See the traitor all defiant 
Wears a supercilious smile ! 

Sweetly smiled my client on him, 

Coyly woo'd and gently won him ! 

All. 
Sweetly smiled, &c. 



TRIAL BY JURY, 357 

Counsel. 

Swiftly fled each honeyed hour 
Spent with this unmanly male! 

Camberwell became a bower, 
Peckham an Arcadian Vale, 

Breathing concentrated otto ! — 

An existence d, la Watteau. 



All. 
Bless us, concentrated otto ! &c. 

Counsel {coming down with Plaintiff, wJio is 
still sobbing on his breast). 

Picture, then, my client naming 

And insisting on the day : 
Picture him excuses framing — 

Going from her far away ; 
Doubly criminal to do so. 
For the maid had bought her trousseaiL ! 



All. 
Doubly criminal, &c. 

Counsel {to Plaintiff, who weeps). 
Cheer up, my pretty — oh, cheer up ! 

Jury. 
Cheer up, cheer up, we love you ! 



358 TRIAL BY JURY. 

(Counsel leads V'LKi^twy fojidly into Witness-box ; 
he takes a tender leave of her and resumes his 
place in Court?) 

(Plaintiff reels, as if about to faint)) 

Judge. 

That she is reeUng 
Is plain to me ! 

Foreman. 

If faint you're feehng, 
RecUne on me ! 

{She falls sobbing on to the foreman s breast^ 

Plaintiff {feebly). 

I shall recover 
If left alone. 

All {shaking their fists at Defendant). 

Oh, perjured lover, 
Atone ! atone ! 

Foreman. 
Just like a father 

I wish to be. {Kissing he?-.) 

Judge; {approaching her). 
Or, if you'd rather, 
Recline on me ! 



TRIAL BY yURY. 359 

{She staggei's 07i to bench, sits down by the Judge, 
and falls sobbing on his breast^ 

Counsel. 

Oh ! fetch some water 
From far Cologne ! 

All. 

For this sad slaughter 
Atone ! atone ! 

Jury {shaking fists at Defendant). 

Monster, monster, dread our fury, 
There's the Judge, and we're the Jury ! 

Song, Defendant. 

Oh, gentlemen, listen, I pray. 

Though I own that my heart has been ranging, 
Of nature the laws I obey. 

For nature is constantly changing. 
The moon in her phases is found, 

The time and the wind and the weather, 
The months in succession come round, 
And you don't find two Mondays together. 
Consider the moral, I pray, 

Nor bring a young fellow to sorrow, 
Who loves this young lady to-day, 
And loves that young lady to-morrow. 



360 TRIAL BY JURY. 

Bridesmaids {rushing forward, and kneeling to 

Jury). 

I Consider the moral, &c. 

You can not eat breakfast all day, 

Nor is it the act of a sinner, 
When breakfast is taken away, 

To turn your attention to' dinner; 
And it's not in the range of belief. 

That you could hold him as a glutton, 
Who, when he is tired of beef. 
Determines to tackle the mutton. 
But this I am ready to say, 

If it will appease their sorrow, 
I'll marry one lady to-day, 

And I'll marry the other to-morrow. 

Bridesmaids {imsJiing foi'uuard as before). 
But this he is ready to say, &c. 

Judge {recit^ 

That seems a reasonable proposition. 
To which I think your client may agree. 

All. 
Oh, Judge discerning ! 

Counsel. 

But, I submit, my lord, with all submission, 
To marry two at once is Burglaree ! 



TRIAL BY JURY. 361 



{Referriiig to law book) 

In the reign of James the Second, 

It was generally reckoned 

As a very serious crime 

To marry two wives at one time. 

{Hands book up to Judge, who reads it) 

All. 
Oh, man of learning ! 

Quartette. 

Judge. 

A nice dilemma we have here, 
That calls for all our wit : 

Counsel. 

And at this stage it don't appear 
That we can settle it. 

Defendant. 

If I to wed the girl am loth 
A breach 'twill surely be ! 

Plaintiff. 

And if he goes and marries both 
It counts as Burglaree ! 

All. 

A nice dilemma, &c. 
31 



362 TRIAL BY JURY. 

Duet, Plaintiff a7id Defendant. 
Plaintiff {embracing Defendant raptiiroiLsly). 

I love him — I love him — with fervor unceasing, 

I worship and madly adore ; 
My blind adoration is always increasing, 

My loss I shall ever deplore. 
Oh, see what a blessing — what love and caressing 

I've lost, and remember it, pray, 
When you I'm addressing, are busy assessing 

The damages Edwin must pay. 

Defendant {repelling her fnrioitsly). 

I smoke like a furnace — I'm always in liquor, 

A ruffian — a bully — a sot. 
I'm sure I should thrash her — perhaps I should 
kick her, 

I am such a very bad lot ! 
I'm not prepossessing, as you may be guessing, 

She couldn't endure me a day ! 
Recall my professing when you are assessing 

The damages Edwin must pay ! 

{She clings to him passionately ; he drags her round 
stage, and flings Jier to the ground.) 

Jury. 

We would be fairly acting, 
But this is most distracting ! 



TRIAL BY JURY. 363 

Judge {recit). 

The question, gentlemen, is one of liquor ; 

You ask for guidance — this is my reply : 
If he, when tipsy, would assault and kick her. 

Let's make him tipsy, gentlemen, and try ! 

Counsel. 

With all respect 
I do object! 

All. 

With all respect 
We do object ! 

Defendant. 
I don't object ! 

All. 
We do object ! 

Judge {tossing his books and papers abont). 

All the legal furies seize you ! 
No proposal seems to please you, 
I can't stop up here all day, 
I must shortly go away. 



364 TRIAL BY JURY. 

Barristers, and you, attorneys, 
Set out on your homeward journeys ; 
Put your briefs upon the shelf, 
I will marry her myself ! 

(He comes down from BeiicJi to floor of Court. He 
embraces Angelina.) 

Finale. 

Plaintiff. 

Oh, joy unbounded ! 
With wealth surrounded. 
The knell is sounded 

Of grief and woe. 

Counsel. 

With love devoted 
On you he's doted : 
To castle moated 

Away they go ! 

Defendant. 

I wonder whether 
They'll live together 
In marriage tether 

In manner true } 



TRIAL BY yURY, 365 



Usher. 

It seems to me, sir, 
Of such as she, sir, 
A judge is he, sir, 

A good judge too. 

Chorus. 
It seems to me, sir, &c. 

Judge. 
Oh, yes, I am a Judge. 

All. 
And a good Judge too ! 

Judge. 
Oh, yes, I am a Judge. 

All. 
And a good Judge too ! 

Judge. 

Though homeward as you trudge, 
You declare my law is fudge. 
Yet of beauty I'm a judge. 



366 TRIAL BY JURY, 

f — '. ■" 

All. 

And a good judge too ! 

(Judge and Plaintiff da7tce back on to the Bench — 
the Bridesmaids take the eight garlands of 
roses from behmd the yudges desk {where one 
end of them is faste7ied) and drazv them across 

floor of Court y so that they radiate from the desk. 
Two plaster Cnpids in bar wigs descend from 

flies. Red fire.) 



THE END. 



Franklin Press : Rand, Avery, (Sr» Co., Boston. 



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LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 




014 457 159 9 



